Jericho: Improved and Prepared
by 2merryann
Summary: The second volume in my continuing saga of what Jericho might have looked like had the community taken the time to become prepared. I strongly recommend reading that first as there are many original characters and references that will make no sense otherwise. The storyline has become more and more AU as it progresses; I imagine that trend will continue. Please, enjoy the story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still do not own any of the characters which appeared on the CBS show. I am the happy owner of a whole slew of original characters, however . . .

**Author's Note: **And thus starts the next volume of the story. Again, if you haven't read the first volume, I'm afraid you will be confused. I recommend reading that before you continue. Cookie points to the reader who can identify the source of the lullaby. As usual, reviews are very welcome, as are questions and comments.

Jericho: Improved and Prepared

**Chapter I: The Best Laid Plans . . .**

**May 31, 2006**

_Well_, Heather thought to herself, _so much for waiting to start the family._ She was starting the long drive from the Rogue River Medical Center home to the Green Ranch following her appointment with Kim Jackson, a clinic nurse who had recently become a certified nurse midwife. They had met in Rogue River to utilize the newly available 4D ultrasound equipment. She glanced up to the rear view mirror to check on 17 month old Johnston Jacob Green III - they called him "Chip", since he was a chip off the old block; just like his father in so many ways. He was sound asleep in his car seat behind her.

_Oh, Jake_, she returned to her thoughts. _Happy Anniversary_, she thought ruefully. _Do I have a surprise for you!_

Her thoughts wandered back over the first three years of their marriage. So many things had happened. They had returned from their honeymoon to learn that April had had a miscarriage. She was devastated at first and requested genetic testing. The conclusion was amniotic banding syndrome - a random, non-genetic event that occurs once per 1200 pregnancies and very unlikely to happen twice in the same family. April was mollified with the results and they went on to have their first baby – Brody Jacob Green in June of 2004. They were expecting their second, a girl, in July of 2006.

Hope and Gil had delivered their son Hunter between Heather's spring break trip and the wedding, and a daughter Piper in May of 2005.

Jake and Heather, having decided to put off starting their family, were surprised to discover that Heather was pregnant after her second spring break visit to California shortly before Jake graduated. Jake's second year of school and the rest of 2004 had seen him doing short under cover assignments in South America and the Middle East, usually posing as a player in the international terror community. Since he didn't have a longstanding cover to maintain, he was able to pop home to Jericho frequently, and was present for the birth of his son on his own 31st birthday in December of 2004. Heather mused at how tender Jake had been with the baby, surprising them all by singing a Folk Song Heather and Gail had never heard before:

_Cheeks of rose, tiny toes,  
Has our little baby;  
Eyes of blue, fingers too,  
Cunning all as may be._

_Mouth so fair, __skin__ so clear,  
Just as soft as may be;  
Bonny eyes, looking wise,  
Such a precious baby._

_Thee I love, sweetest dove,  
Darling little baby!__  
__While I live, thee I'll give__  
__Kisses warm as may be._

_Crow and play all the day,  
Happy little baby!  
May your life, free from strife,  
Pure as 'tis today be._

When she questioned Jake about it later, he told her it was a song taught him by his birth-grandmother Sadie.

January had seen Jake assigned to a long-term under cover mission in Afghanistan. It had been open ended time-wise; he was to stay until the mission was accomplished. In the end, it took 14 months to wrap up the mission, with only two visits home to see his family during that time. Heather had managed to meet him in Germany for a long weekend one additional time. Overall, it was the longest and most miserable year of their lives. Jake hated that he couldn't be there to help Heather, and that Chip was growing every day and did not recognize Jake when he came back to Jericho for visits despite frequent videoconferencing. He had been home for 10 day over Christmas and New Year's Day, and was able to celebrate Chip's first Christmas. He and Heather spoke of how difficult the separation was, and Jake said he would try to come home for good as soon as the Afghanistan mission ended; a matter of weeks, he hoped. He had not only himself to consider, but the agents on his task force that were embedded in various roles in country.

Indeed, the Afghanistan mission wrapped up mid-February of 2006, just around the time Heather realized she was pregnant again. Jake petitioned hard to return to Jericho and consult from there. His chief was about to agree when he became aware of a new situation developing in Iraq. He felt this one required exactly the skill-set Jake possessed, and would only take a few months to accomplish. Jake wasn't pleased, but felt he didn't have the option of declining this last mission.

Jake had a week in Jericho before leaving for Iraq, where he would ostensibly be working for Ravenwood-like a private contractor who was doing overflow work the U.S. military was unable to handle (for the record) and smuggling weapons to Taliban insurgents (off the record). Jake was tasked with identifying those responsible and putting them out of business permanently. He was to start at the bottom of the food chain and work his way up, posing as a disenfranchised veteran looking to make quick money at the expense of the U.S. military. His military knowledge and linguistic ability made him the perfect candidate for the job. As much as he hated the thought of being away from Heather during another pregnancy, and Chip as he was learning to walk and talk, Jake was challenged by the assignment. Further, the quicker he threw himself into the role, the quicker he could go home to his family permanently.

Jake was quite surprised when he arrived at the supply warehouse in Baghdad and recognized his old Army buddy Freddy already working for the same private contractor. He pulled Freddy aside at the first opportunity and told him it would really be better if Freddy found a way out of his contract and home to San Diego. Freddy refused, guessing Jake was in-country on an undercover assignment and assuring Jake someone needed to have his back if things went sideways. Jake hated to put his friend at risk, but appreciated having a friend there at all.

It worked out that Jake could bunk with him since someone had recently moved out of Freddy's CHU (containerized housing unit, pronounced choo; the same as used by the military). The 8'x22' aluminum shipping container had bunk beds at either end, and a common area in the middle. Heather was relieved to learn that Jake had a friend on the assignment; she had a bad feeling about it and hoped it would wrap up quickly so both Jake and Freddy could come home to the States.

Her thoughts returning to Jericho, as she continued to catalog the things which had happened since they had been married. April and Eric seemed happy enough now, though they had had a rough patch when Eric had confessed to carrying on with Mary Bailey from Bailey's Tavern. Eric had gone so far as to move back in with Johnston and Gail for a few months while he and April worked things out, but then April found out she was pregnant again and they decided to reconcile. April had forgiven him, and it seemed that Eric was leading the life of an exemplary husband now. The town had not gotten wind of his indiscretion.

Stanley Richmond was still single, but not for the lack of trying. He has been out on at least one date with every single female within 50 miles, it would seem. His 'date' with Mary Baily had ended in catastrophe when he had tried to show off on the mechanical bull at Bailey's but slipped off and broken his humerus. Bailey's insurance carrier had demanded the permanent retirement of the mechanical bull for liability reasons. Mary had not been pleased.

Emily Sullivan had announced her engagement to Roger Hammond, the banker she had met in Topeka several years earlier. They had a fall wedding planned and had purchased one of the vacant homes in _The Pines_. Emily and Heather had bonded to the point that Emily had asked Heather to be a bridesmaid in the wedding. Heather had graciously accepted and then found out she was pregnant a second time. She had been hoping to deliver before the wedding day arrived.

Uncle Emmett and his lady friend Eleanor had been married the previous Christmas in a lovely wedding held at Green Ranch. Heather had gotten to know Eleanor quite well and found her to fit nicely with the family. Listening to her British accent brought Heather fond memories of her honeymoon and all of the friends they had made.

Although she and Jake had been unable to take any other extensive trips, they had entertained visitors from California – Steve and Lauren from Julian had brought their children for a visit on their way to see her family in St Louis. Another set of visitors had been Brian and Nora hEoghanáin who had come from Ireland to visit their Green cousins. Jake had arranged to be in Jericho at the same time they were. The two couples had taken the 12-hour drive to Bowling Green, Kentucky to meet the Green family members who lived there. It was a grand reunion, and Heather probably would have enjoyed it more if she hadn't been pregnant with Chip at the time. Horse trading arrangements were made between Jake and his distant cousin Shane Green along with promises to bring the family and visit Jericho. Audrey and Bertrand Lefebvre had also visited Green Ranch from Calais when they were in the states to visit Audrey's family in North Dakota. They brought the sad news that Colette Moreau had died of a heart attack the year following their visit; she had been 86.

The residents of Green Ranch, and of Jericho as a whole, had been deeply saddened the previous summer by the death of Scout McCall. He had been 77, and had devoted 54 of those years to Green Ranch. He died much the same way that he had lived; quietly in his sleep without any fuss. Annie McCall had leaned heavily on her children and grandchildren for support, and had taken to reminiscing with E.J. more than usual since they were the last remaining members of their generation left in Jericho.

The Planning Ahead Committee had continued its work, holding annual drills and recruiting more community members to the cause with each passing disaster. The summer of 2003 had brought the European Heat Wave killing 40,000 people. December of 2004 had seen the Indian Ocean Tsunami with 310,000 dead. September of 2005 and the debacle of Hurricane Katrina had really gotten the attention of the townspeople. As best they knew, operational security had remained intact, and they had succeeded in educating several other towns about the importance of preparing, including the Kentucky branch of the Green family when they had visited the previous summer.

Jake and Heather's European guests had provided the opportunity to establish ham radio communications with the eastern hemisphere. Now Jericho had international contacts in France and Ireland in addition to a number of contacts around the United States. Oliver Wilson had become the go-to guy in the community for ham radio use and for spare parts. He had a basement under his home and a warehouse behind his garage off Route 160 filled with enough old appliances and engines to supply the town with spare parts in perpetuity

The town improvement proposals Heather and Hope had made at Thanksgiving so many years ago had all been implemented to one extent or another. Will and Erin McCall, who had been saving their money, bought the old Cooper place and opened a Bed and Breakfast the following year after a number of improvements were made. They upgraded the kitchen so that it could be used to prepare breakfast for guests, and simple farmhouse lunches and dinners for the community or whoever happened along. One entre and several side dishes were offered at each meal rotating through the week and changing seasonally. The new 'restaurant' had been an immediate hit with the people of Jericho and the surrounding communities.

Will McCall, having lived his life in the shadow of Green Ranch with first Scout, and then Wes in charge, flourished with his newfound autonomy. After purchasing several horses from Green Ranch, he contacted the Amish community near Cedar Brook and commissioned the building of a wagon. Even before the B&B opened, he was offering hay rides to Jericho and surrounding communities and horseback rides for folks that lived in towns and didn't have their own horses. Those ventures had gone so well that he had commissioned a carriage from his Amish acquaintances the following year to pick guests up at the Jericho Air terminal and to take couples on romantic rides.

Will had also researched the raising of sheep for wool. He had chosen Icelandic sheep that could also be used for milk and meat if necessary. He had traded a colt for two ewes and a ram from a breeder in eastern Kansas. The two young ewes had each produced twins the following spring and triplets the next. The Amish ladies had helped Erin, Hope and several other ladies learn how to card, spin and dye the wool in exchange for a supply of raw wool. Soon Erin was able to take both raw wool and skeins of yarn to the co-op store to sell. She had been able to interest some of the younger girls of Jericho in milking Dolly and Bessie the ewes. They were able to create a niche market by selling sheep milk, yogurt and cheese at the Farmer's Market to folks who were unable to consume dairy products made from cow milk for one reason or another.

The co-op store, opened in the old Madison building, had been a huge success and ongoing proposition. Many Jericho households had something they wanted to try their hand at selling in the store, and were happy to staff the store for a few hours per week. Many items were purchased outright by folks visiting the store from Jericho or other towns. Other items were traded barter-style by their creators to other Jericho entrepreneurs. New ideas were appearing weekly, so one had to check back often.

The Farmer's Market had been another success, offering a venue for food-items to be sold or bartered. Several farmers had ventured into the world of organic crop production, making it another niche market that attracted folks from neighboring communities. Again, the variety of offerings was growing weekly as folks decided to sell duck and goose eggs for those that might not tolerate chicken eggs, artisanal breads and cheeses, jams, jellies and preserves, and a long list of other foodstuffs. At first, Gracie Leigh had been resentful of the competition. Then she had realized that her store was still the source of canned and boxed convenience foods and staples.

By this point in her long drive, Heather was pulling into the driveway of Green Ranch and Chip was stirring. She put away her musings and returned to the reality of today. As she unbuckled Chip, his eyes popped open. As is the case with many babies, his eyes had been blue when he was born, but they darkened to a beautiful shade of brown during the next few months. A small clone of Jake, Heather thought with a grin.

"Mama," Chip said happily patting Heather on the cheek, then snuggling into her neck. Heather had not known it was possible to love him as much as she did.

"Mama loves you," she reassured him as she snuggled him close to her and carried him toward the house.

In the 20th week of her pregnancy, she was already almost as big as she had been when she went to deliver Chip. Iraq was in a time zone eight hours ahead of Jericho. She usually Skyped (a vast improvement on their earlier videoconferencing endeavors) with Jake in the evening. She glanced at her watch – just after noon. She didn't want to wait ten more hours for their conversation, so she hurried straight through the vacant great room and up to the master bedroom she and Chip had been sharing in Jake's absence. She sat Chip in his crib and handed him some crackers to keep him occupied while she turned on her computer and tried to make contact with Jake.

He was doing paperwork at his desk, so answered immediately. "Heather, is everything O.K.? Are you alright? The baby? What about Chip?"

"Yes, we're all fine." Heather leaned to the side so Jake could see Chip in his crib behind her.

"DaDa," Chip shrieked rom his crib when he saw Jake on the computer screen.

"I just got home from my ultrasound appointment." Heather continued. "It's a good thing you're sitting down. Not only have we failed two methods of birth control, but now we're having twins. Kim Jackson thinks they're both girls. No wonder I'm already as big as a house!"

"Oh, my. Congratulations, I think?" Jake sat back in his chair, not exactly sure what to say. Twins did run in the family, but they hadn't really planned any of these kids quite this soon. "I guess I really need to get this wrapped up and come home then, huh?"

"Yes, please," Heather said with a rueful laugh. "It's sort of overwhelming. I drove all of the way home from Rogue River trying to sort things out in my mind."

"Are they healthy?" Jake asked, the reality of having twin daughters sinking in.

"Yes, they're great," Heather said, "right on target for 21 weeks even if they weren't twins. I guess it's true that babies take what they need. My due date is still October 8, but Kim said it isn't unusual or problematic if twins arrive a few weeks early. So please come home as soon as you can!"

"I'll do my best. You know how much I hate being away from you, and how much hate Iraq at this point. We're making good progress, but still a ways from the end game. I'll keep you posted, O.K.? Will you bring Chip over to the computer so I can talk to him a bit? He's usually asleep when we talk in the evenings, so I haven't seen him for a few days."

Jake, Heather and Chip enjoyed a lively conversation before signing off and returning to their own worlds. Jake knew he had to wrap things up and began thinking of ways to make the process go more rapidly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I still do not own any of the characters which appeared on the CBS show.

**Author's Note:** It seems the chapters are shorter and more frequently ready to post these days. Reasonable, I guess, since we all know what will be happening soon.

**Chapter II: I Keep Working my Way Back to You**

**Late August – Early September, 2006**

Try as Jake might, he had been unable to wrap up the mission as quickly as he had hoped. Slow, steady progress was made, but his chief wasn't content to call it complete until the one giving the orders had been identified and apprehended. The weeks and months dragged on to mid-August, with Heather at home in Jericho growing bigger and more uncomfortable in the heat of the Kansas summer, and Jake experiencing it via Skype from the heat of the Iraqi summer.

Jake was finishing the reports on his most recent intel gathering interactions, fairly certain that these last few tidbits of information would conclusively connect the dots to the ringleader of the operation and return both he and Freddy home to the States soon. He was brooding on the topic when Freddy entered the CHU and told him to grab his gear; they had a delivery to make in Safa. He wasn't pleased, racking his brain for a way of getting out of the delivery. Thinking of no viable excuse, he went against his better judgment and followed Freddy to the truck.

Later, when he remembered that day, he would be the first to admit that his mind had not been on the mission. It had been on returning home to his wife and son, hopefully in time for the birth of his twin daughters. Such a lapse in concentration can be fatal, and there would be times when the guilt was so bad he wished it had been.

As they neared the town of Safa, Jake had failed to notice another vehicle join the rear of the caravan. Once through the gates of the town, insurgents materialized out of nowhere, flanking them, and unleashing a barrage of automatic fire. The vehicle following them had blocked them from simply backing up. Jake and the men of the convoy returned fire, and the insurgents ran for cover. It was then that Jake realized he had shot a little girl who had been playing along the road just moments before. Somewhat dazed, Jake wanted to go to her, to try and help her. He opened the door of the truck, but Freddy grabbed him by the back of his BDU blouse and hauled him back into the truck, ordering him to turn the truck around and get out of there. Momentarily shaken out of his confusion, he revved the engine and spun the truck around, leading the convoy out of the hostile town.

Jake drove far enough away from the town to be sure no one had followed, and then he stopped the convoy. He barely made it out of the truck before throwing up his lunch onto the sand. War is hell. He had no doubt of that. But the fact that he had killed a little girl, someone's daughter, was beyond the pale. He got back into the truck, ineffectually brushing glass shards out of the driver's seat: the side window must have taken a round and was shattered.

Jake drove back to headquarters as quickly as the truck would take them, cursing himself for the mistake he had made, cursing the country that allowed its children to play in the middle of a battle zone, cursing the FBI for sending him to this godforsaken pit. How would he ever be able to face himself in the mirror again after this fatal error in judgment? How would he ever face Heather? How would he ever be able to hold their own daughters when he carried the guilt of taking the daughter away from another family?

At last they reached the headquarters compound and the relative safety therein. Jake pulled up to the warehouse from whence the caravan had been loaded and started out a few hours earlier. He wasn't feeling very well – adrenalin rush subsiding, he imagined. When he went to get out of the truck, things went black and he slumped to the hot sand.

Freddy was around the truck in a minute, rolling Jake over far enough to identify the problem – a large shard of glass which was protruding from Jake's left flank. It had both caused the problem, and was undoubtedly the only thing tamponading the damaged vessels and the keeping Jake from bleeding out right there on the sand.

Freddy hauled Jake back into the truck once again, albeit more gingerly this time, and took the driver's seat. He hollered something about medical attention to the rest of the team as he drove Jake away from the warehouse. Independent contractors were supposed to see the company doc, but Freddy knew he was a hack at best. Instead, he headed to the nearest Army base and yanked his dog tags out of his shirt for the MP at the gate to see, explaining it was a matter of life or death. He knew Jake also wore dog tags around his neck – in the name of his FBI alias. Jake had explained them by saying they reminded him what the Army had done to him and what the United States owed him as a result. Freddy figured their veteran status would be Jake's best shot at good medical care and a rapid extraction out of Iraq.

Freddy had convinced the battalion surgeon that Jake was a veteran and an undercover FBI agent in danger of retribution if his safety wasn't secured; then the medical team whisked a still unconscious Jake off to the operating room to remove the glass shard and check on his spleen – the most likely organ to have been damaged given the location of the injury. Freddy then returned the truck to headquarters. He went and to the CHU he and Jake had shared with two other men for the past 6 months. Their housemates were out, undoubtedly on a different mission, so Freddy scooped up Jake's laptop and as many personal belongings he could cram into the laptop bag before leaving headquarters again. He knew neither he nor Jake would be returning. He drove away from the compound, parking the company car a few blocks away, and hailed a taxi to return to the army base.

By the time Jake regained consciousness, he and Freddy were on a C130 medical transport en route to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany. Freddy might have given the Army the impression that he was Jake's security detail, and as such, needed to accompany Jake wherever he was sent.

Jake had been fortunate; his spleen had been intact and the Army surgeon had been able to repair the internal bleeding easily. He was checked out again at Landstuhl, given another two days of IV antibiotics, and then transported back to the States for further recovery. He had spent another two days at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in DC, debriefed by local FBI brass, and then released to fly home. Freddy flew with him to Denver, and then put Jake on the charter flight to Jericho, knowing that Heather would be there to meet him.

Heather had been horrified when Freddy had called her from Germany, but had quickly recovered when she was told Jake would recover nicely, had completed the mission, and would be home for good very soon. Heather was at the end of her 34th week of pregnancy on September 1 when she picked Jake up and the Jericho Air Terminal – one week after his injury in Safa, Iraq.

"I can't believe you're really here," Heather had said when Jake walked slowly off the plane and into the terminal. She had thrown her arms around his neck, careful not to bowl him over considering her additional proportions and his weakened condition.

Jake was still dazed over the events of Safa. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair, and told her how much he loved her. He patted her rather large belly and was rewarded by the kicking of little feet.

"They wake up in the afternoon and want to play," Heather told him as they walked slowly toward the parking lot. "At least they sleep most of the night, unlike Chip, who slept all day and kicked all night."

Johnston was waiting for them in the parking lot, haven provided chauffeur service for Heather, who was banned from driving until the arrival of the babies.

"Good to have you home, Son." Johnston said to Jake, giving him a hug. "We weren't sure whether you would make it in time for the big day," he continued, gesturing toward Heather. "Couldn't you have just asked for time off rather than creating all of this drama?" He concluded, motioning to Jake's injury.

"Very funny, Dad," Jake replied, not fully appreciating the humor implied. "Maybe you can just take us home for now and crack wise another day?"

Johnston complied. He wasn't sure if it was pain, fatigue, or something else talking, but a red flag went up in the back of his mind that all was not right with his eldest son.

Jake and Heather rested for the next week; Jake recovering from his injury and Heather on recommended light duty to allow the babies to grow as long as possible before labor started. Sometime around midnight on Saturday the 9th, the ever-present Braxton Hicks contractions became stronger and Heather concluded she was in labor. Jake called to the bunk house for Katie McCall to come watch Chip, he grabbed the bags and pillows from their room and they set out on the 90 minute drive to Rogue River.

The OB who had followed Heather with Kim Jackson once the twin pregnancy was discovered had told Heather that he wouldn't stop labor if she made it to 36 weeks. The girls were remarkably strong and healthy and she'd had an uncomplicated pregnancy. She was 36 weeks exactly that day and couldn't be more ready to hold the babies in her arms and stop the incessant kicking from within.

Once they arrived at Rogue River, they got Heather checked in to Fillmore County Hospital, and things began to move quickly. Apparently the babies were now in just as much of a hurry to make their appearance. By the time Jake returned from parking the car, Heather was already in a delivery room and he was being urged to pull a cover gown on over his sweatshirt and jeans. A resuscitation team was gathering – standard for a delivery of multiples – and Heather was being told it wouldn't be long before she could push. They had invited Gail to be present in the delivery room as she had been for Chip, but Jake guessed that was out of the question now. He jockeyed his way between the team members toward Heather and she took his hand, happy he had decided to join the party.

Monitors were set up, radiant warmers readied and warm blankets brought into the room. Heather's contractions continued, and by the time they checked her again, everyone was ready and they were telling her she could push. Within 20 minutes they were welcoming Sarah Catherine into the world at 5lbs 9oz, and shortly thereafter her sister Abigail Claire at 5lbs 4oz. It was clear to all present that they were fraternal twins. Sarah Catherine (Sadie) had bright blue eyes and wispy red curls, and was vigorously protesting the cold hard world into which she had been thrust. Abigail Claire (Abby) had blue eyes and dark hair, and was placidly observing her surroundings, including her boisterous sister.

Resuscitation was unnecessary; the girls were breathing just fine of their own. The staff brought Sadie to Heather as soon as possible in the hopes of calming her with skin-to-skin contact or nursing. They brought Abby to Jake to hold. He looked into her eyes, so much like Heather's, but all he could see was the lifeless eyes of a little girl, dead on the sand a world away. He closed his eyes, willing the image to leave him so he could enjoy this happy moment with his family, but it haunted him. No one but Freddy knew about the girl, except her own family, of course. Jake could not bring himself to tell Heather, but knew she suspected something was amiss.

Shaking himself out of his maudlin self-loathing, he forced himself back into the moment, looking over at Heather. Sadie had latched on to some extent, and was at last quiet. Heather was watching her with a love-filled expression. Jake glances down at Abby and found her watching him with a wise expression. How could these two babies, produced by the same gene pool and pregnancy, already have such different personalities, Jake wondered to himself. He cuddled Abby closely to his chest and returned Heather's smile when she finally looked up. He knew he didn't deserve this wonderful family, but he would do his best to do right by them, in the hopes of atoning for his litany of misdeeds, most notable the little girl in Safa.

Heather and the babies were discharged home on Monday afternoon. Gail and Johnston, Eric and April, and Hope and Gil had visited over the weekend, each declaring the babies beautiful and opehhhh otherwise perfect in every way. Heather was radiant and rapidly coming to terms with nursing twins almost as easily as she had one baby. As Jake loaded his expanded family into the car, he sent up a prayer of thanksgiving for the safe arrival of the babies and again asked forgiveness for the little girl in Safa. He couldn't forgive himself, but he thought it might help if God forgave him.

The drive home was uneventful, and the McCalls turned out en mass along with E.J. and young Chip to welcome them home. Heather had told Chip about the imminent arrival of the twins, but knowing about two sisters and experiencing them first-hand are two entirely different matters when one is 21 months old. For the most part, he was happy that Heather had a lap once again, and otherwise didn't seem overly bothered by them. He and his cousin Brody had grown used to Tracy in the three months since she had been born like he and the McCall children from Scout Ranch (as Will and Erin had recently named the B&B) had grown used to three-month-old Maureen McCall.

The days after they came home from the hospital blurred together for Jake as they lost out on sleep and tried to pay equal attention to Chip. He had been putting off his trip to the Denver field office to finally wrap up the Iraq mission until after the arrival of the babies. Now he felt he couldn't justify further delay. He had also contacted the charter service that flew out of Jericho, figuring he could interview for a pilot position during the same trip. Turned out the charter service was based in San Diego, so he made the correct reservations. The pilots who flew for the charter service had been strangers until recently when Gary Fisher, of Fisher Hardware, had married Chloe Nelson, one of the pilots who frequently flew in and out of Jericho. She had been happy to provide Jake with the information he needed to apply for a position.

Heather had been reluctant to have him leave again, but understood the necessity of finishing his business with the FBI. His plans were made for the following week. He would fly out early Monday morning and drive home from Denver when he wrapped up his business Wednesday afternoon. He had left his Roadrunner in Denver when he had left for Iraq in February.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I still do not own any of the characters which appeared on the CBS show.

**Author's Note:** It seems the chapters are shorter and more frequently ready to post these days. Reasonable, I guess, since we all know what will be happening soon.

**Chapter III: The Day Before**

**September 19, 2006**

The trip gave Jake time to think; something he had been trying to avoid. Various trains of thought flitted through his mind. He needed to spend at least an hour or so shopping for a more family-friendly vehicle. Now that they had three car seats, the old compact car Heather had been driving since college wouldn't cut it anymore, even if she did keep it in top-notch condition. Denver would have a better selection of mini-vans than Rogue River.

Jake was also concerned about the health of his grandfather. Heather had mentioned some issues with his memory, but it wasn't until Jake came home and experienced it for himself that he realized the decline that was occurring. Even with the McCalls just across the way, it wouldn't be safe to leave Chip under the supervision of E.J. He could still recite the poetry he had memorized in elementary school, but was growing foggy on what day of the week it was. He still remembered all of the WWII battles in which he had participated, but wasn't sure if he had taken his meds today or not. Jake was relieved that Heather had agreed to stop teaching full time after the birth of the twins. She might go back to substitute when they got a bit older, but not take a regular class. Having her at home with the children, and with E.J., was a blessing and one less thing Jake needed to worry over.

Jake thought about Heather and wondered why she hadn't called him out on his failure to be emotionally present since his return. He wanted to tell her about Safa, to receive the absolution he knew she would give, but he couldn't quite put the incident into words just yet. He tried not to dwell on it, but it was always lurking in the periphery of his thoughts and making him feel physically ill. He knew Heather was displeased that he was interviewing for the charter service. Money was not the issue; he needed to stay busy. One would think three children under the age of two would do it, but it hadn't. He loved Heather, and he adored the children, but he needed to work through this before he could be the husband and father he wanted to be; the husband and father they deserved to have.

Jake had gone to San Diego first, meeting with the recruiter for the charter service.

"Nice planes," Jake had said, walking through the hanger with the recruiter.

"Yeah," the recruiter had replied. "Every aircraft we operate is augmented with custom security and design features you won't find in any other fleet. I see you're and Embry Riddle grad. ATP certified, 1600 verified FAA hours. You're clearly well qualified, Mr. Green."

"Flying is in my blood," Jake commented. "I started working on my Grandfather's crop-duster when I was ten."

"Now, you understand we charter for some top executives and celebrity clients," the recruiter continued. "Absolute discretion is a must for our flight crew."

"Hey," Jake said, putting up his hands, "anything past getting the plane from 'A' to 'B' is none of my business."

"Good," the recruiter said, smiling smugly. "Of course finding out everything we can about the people piloting our planes is our business. According to your visa records, you have spent a little time in the Middle East over the last few years."

"Fourteen months in Afghanistan, six in Iraq," Jake replied, beginning to worry about where this was going.

"But you weren't there with the military?" The recruiter pressed.

"I worked for an independent contractor," Jake responded in a guarded tone.

"Left that off the resume," the recruiter disparaged.

"I didn't think it was relevant," Jake retorted quickly.

"The State Department has you flagged as a person of interest," the recruiter continued.

"Well, I'm an interesting guy," Jake relied flippantly, having realized the interview was probably beyond salvageable. "There was an incident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Which contractor were you working with then this 'incident' occurred," asked the recruiter.

"One of the big ones," Jake answered, shaking his head; surprised that they were continuing the conversation.

"Halliburton? Blackwater?" The recruiter asked.

"You said discretion was a must," Jake reminded him pointedly.

"Look, I'm going to be straight with you," the recruiter pushed on, a hint of forcefulness in his voice. "I think there is room in our operation for someone like you, but there's no way I can hire you if you are unable to clear this up. You understand that?"

"Thank you for your time," Jake replied, turning and walking out of the hanger.

With his interview cut short, Jake had a little time before his flight left for Denver. He drove his rental car to Mission Bay, to a bar on the beach where Freddy liked to spend time. He found Freddy and told him of the results of the interview.

"Aw, man. Here's something: _Driver wanted, military experience a plus, travel opportunities_; something tells me they're not talking about the Bahamas." Freddy read from an ad in the paper.

"Yeah, I don't need another driving job." Jake responded disconsolately.

"You're no driver, man. You're a pilot, a freaking good one," Freddy answered with enthusiasm.

Jake just shrugged.

"I'm sorry. I'll tell you what I can do, though. Set you up with a drink" Freddy whistled. "Hey! Mira! Hit us up with a couple of cervesas."

"What's up with you and the manners," Jake asked, eyeing his friend questioningly.

"I know that you just did not whistle for me like some dog," the waitress said indignantly as she continued to clean the next table.

"Oh, Baby," Freddy said in an attempt to placate her.

"Don't you 'Baby' me, Baby," the waitress retorted. "You're the worse tipper in here."

"What? That ring on your finger? That don't count?" Freddy asked incredulously as the waitress smiled at him and walked away.

"You finally pull the trigger, Freddie?" Jake asked. "All right!"

"You know it baby," Freddy answered happily.

Freddy's phone rang and he answered. "Yeah, hold on a second." Turning toward Jake he said "Don't go anywhere, alright?"

"Where am I going to go?" Jake said, shaking his head.

Jake stood and approached Anna where she was clearing a table.

"Anna, congratulations," Jake said, giving her a hug.

"Thank you," Anna replied with a laugh and a role of her eyes.

"He's a good man," Jake reassured her.

"Well, I don't know how good he is, but he promised to take care of me. Call me crazy, I believe him." Anna concluded with a chuckle.

"What's this?" Freddie asked, returning to the bar. "My best man is hitting on my fiancée?"

"Best man?" Jake asked.

"You going to make me ask? You're more of a brother to me than the one I grew up with," Freddie told Jake, giving him a hug.

"I get you. Happy to be there," Jake answered.

"I've got some more good news, too. Uh, Sweetie, will you, uh, give us a minute to talk?" Freddie asked.

Anna again rolled her eyes and then returned to her responsibilities at the bar.

"What if I told you I've got a gig lined up? Eight weeks, 100 G's, all cash." Freddy informed Jake in furtive tones.

"What kinda gig?" Jake asked warily.

"The kind we're good at." Freddy replied enthusiastically. "Cargo run. Quick in, quick out. 30 up front, 70 when it's done."

"Where?" Jake asked cautiously.

"Afghanistan," Freddy replied.

Jake laughed. "No," he said firmly.

"Come on, we do this one gig, and we are set," Freddy cajoled. "You can open that flight school, go back home to Heather and the kids and settle down . . ."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Jake asked. "I can't believe you'd even ask after what we saw over there. After what we did."

"All we did is not get killed, Jake," Freddy said quietly.

"Innocent people died, Freddy," Jake retorted angrily. "Innocent people. I see it every time I close my eyes, which isn't too damn often these days."

"W-we'll be smarter this time man. You know that I got your back man," Freddy responded, sounding like he was trying to convince them both.

"Sorry. You're on your own this time. I can't go back there." Jake said with an air of finality. "Furthermore, Heather would skin me alive if I took another travel job. She practically did when I said I was coming to apply with the charter service." He glanced at his watch. "I have a plane to catch. Keep in touch, man. Let me know when the wedding is, O.K.?"

Freddy nodded in agreement and gave Jake another hug. Jake waved good-bye to Anna, who waved back from the bar where she was busy working. He returned to his rental car. Again he was consumed with his thoughts. He hated to leave Freddy in the lurch after Freddy had saved his live in Safa. He would have to think about what he could do toward that situation. After all the excitement Freddy had experienced, he didn't exactly see Freddy coming to Jericho and settling down on the farm. He would have to think of something else.

He flew to Denver and stayed the night in the extended-stay suites reserved for agents from out of town. He spent the full day Tuesday and all of Wednesday morning signing reports, reviewing files, meeting with his chief and others up the political ladder. His work had, indeed, led to the apprehension of several high-ranking officials in the independent contracting agency. The smuggling ring was stopped cold. All of those who had been knowledgeable had been arrested and brought back state-side to stand trial for treason, among other things. Jake would be called upon to testify at the various trials as they came up on the schedule, but otherwise his work on that case was complete. The bureau thanked him for his service on the case and confirmed their intention to contact him as needed in the future for consulting work. He indicated an interest in returning to his occasional pilot responsibilities as needed, and they added him to that list as well. If he couldn't fly for the charter service, perhaps he could fly for the FBI once again. He made his way to the long-term parking garage and started toward home.

Meanwhile, in Jericho, Heather had plans to meet April in town for lunch. Joanna McCall had volunteered to watch the kids and shooed Heather out the door for the first time since the babies were born. When she arrived at the medical center to collect April, she found Gail there as well.

"No, Johnston didn't come in for his check-up this morning," April was telling Gail.

"I had a feeling that would be the case," Gail said in exasperation, shaking her head.

"I have a little time, would you like me to go over to Town Hall and check him out?" April asked, consulting her appointment book.

"Oh, thank you so much, Dear, I would greatly appreciate if you would. He can be so stubborn sometimes," Gail said, beaming at April.

"Heather!" April said, noticing her sister-in-law in the doorway. "Do you want to come with us while I do a quick blood pressure check on our dear Father? We can go straight to Bailey's for lunch as soon as I'm done."

Heather laughed. "Sure, that will be fine. I'm just enjoying seeing adults after ten days with the babies."

As they walked down the hall of Town Hall, they could hear and then see Eric speaking with Johnston.

"USA Today is having a contest to decide the top 5 towns under 5000. I was thinking we should submit Jericho," Eric was attempting to convince his father.

"Why?" Johnston asked, clearly not convinced. "So some big developer can come in and start buying the town up, maybe turn Main Street into a strip mall, or half a dozen coffee shops or so?"

"Dad, there are worse things in the world than venti Frappuccino's," Eric retorted.

"Speak English," Johnston snapped back.

"This could be a good thing," Eric persisted. "The kind of headlines that brings out voters next month."

"Son, I am not worried about beating Gray Anderson. People of this town have kept me in office for over 20 years. I will earn their votes by doing the job they hired me to do."

Eric turned and noticed the ladies for the first time. "Wh-what are you guys doing here?"

"Your father missed his checkup this morning," Gail explained, "and April was nice enough to take off her lunch hour to make a house call."

"Well, I'm sorry, Doc," Johnston said dismissively, "but we're going to have to reschedule for some time after the election.

"Johnston." Gail said firmly, stopping him in his tracks. "You are going to do this whether you like it or not. I've had this terrible cold, and you've not been feeling well for almost a week. I don't like having to stay away from my grandbabies in order to avoid getting them sick"

"It's a bad one," April agreed. "Half my staff has come down with it."

"Do you want to strip here," Gail laid down the ultimatum, "or would you like to go somewhere a little less public?"

"My office," Johnston said in resignation, leaving Eric and Heather standing in the hall, smirking.

"That's my guy," Gail said, following Johnston and April toward the Mayor's office.

Later, as Heather and April were entering Bailey's for lunch, they couldn't help but notice a sophisticated woman who had walked in just ahead of them. Stanley Richmond had offered her his bar stool when he noticed her walk in, having torn his attention away from the football game on TV. They watched the interaction with interest from their nearby table.

"I hate sitting when I've got money on a game," Stanley said to the mystery woman. "Yes! Yes! Mary Bailey, you owe me 5 bucks! Pay up! Better yet, give my good luck charm here a drink, on me!"

"Don't waste your money. I've got an expense account," she said disdainfully to Stanley. Turning to Mary Bailey, she asked "What is your best wine?"

"Beer," Mary answered, unimpressed by the newcomer.

"Vodka Rocks," the woman answered with a roll of her eyes. "Do you know that it is a 3 hours cab ride from the airport to this godforsaken town?" The woman asked Stanley.

"Scenic though, ain't it?" Stanley replied with a cocky expression.

"If you like corn," she responded.

"Well now, who doesn't like corn? I mean you got corn on the cob, corn flakes, corn nuts, corn dogs, corn sickles!" Stanley was enjoying this a bit too much; he exchanged knowing looks with Mary.

"Corn sickles?" The woman asked incredulously.

"It's a joke, lady," he responded indignantly.

"Can you not talk to me, please?" The woman asked. "Thank you," she said after a pause.

"Corn chips…" Stanley continued, only to be interrupted.

"Seriously," she said firmly. "Don't talk to me."

Stanley shrugged his shoulders and left the tavern shortly thereafter.

Heather and April had a good laugh at the expense of Stanley and the sophisticated mystery woman, and then turned back to ordering their lunch and discussing their children.

Later, as they left Bailey's, they saw Stanley's familiar yellow truck pull up and stop in front of them. The mystery woman was standing on the sidewalk like she was waiting for someone.

"Excuse me, excuse me," she called to Stanley as he exited his truck and started across the street toward Gracie's Market. "Ah, it's you," she said in disappointment upon recognizing him from her earlier enter at Bailey's.

"Yeah, sorry, not ringing a bell," Stanley replied, turning toward her.

"Look, I've been standing out here forever waiting for a cab," the woman told him, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"I suggest you nicely ask someone for a ride," Stanley told her, turning to go.

"Do you know where the Richmond Farm is?" She asked politely.

"Well yeah, I ought to, I'm Stanley Richmond," he said with a smile, turning toward her again.

The woman laughed. "You gotta be kidding," she responded, unable to believe her poor luck.

"No," Stanley reassured her. "See now's the part where _you_ tell me _your_ name."

"Mimi Clarke," the woman replied.

"Well it's nice to meet you Miss Clarke," Stanley responded politely.

"Do you not read your mail?" Mimi asked in a scathing tone.

"Nope, nothing but bills and bad news," Stanley replied in a lighted manner. "Why?"

"Well, this would be a little of both," came the condescending response. "I work for the IRS, and according to our records, you owe more than $180,000 in back taxes," she said with a smirk. "It's nice to meet you," she concluded, holding out her hand to be shaken.

Stanley just stood there, a look of disbelief on his face. Heather and April, who had been inadvertently eavesdropping, turned and walked quickly away.

"Oh, dear," Heather said in dismay, "I had no idea. I'll mention it to Jake when he gets home. Perhaps we can help in some way."

"Sounds good," April agreed. "By the looks of it, Stanley had no idea, either."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own any of the characters who appeared on the CBS Television show _Jericho_.

**Author's Note:** I apologize for yet another delay between posting chapters. Sometimes life happens faster than it can be coped with. I will be out of state for the next few weeks, so unfortunately there will be yet another delay. Eventually we will get there!

**Chapter IV: **_**The Catastrophe**_

**September 20, 2006**

It was nearing 6pm as Jake approached the shortcut which would take him directly to Green Ranch rather than through the center of town. Jake was idly listening to the President of the United States address the nation.

"_And yet we all know that these divisions pale in comparison to the fundamental dangers posed by the threat of terror. We have an internal commitment to leave the world a better place for our children and grandchildren. This has always been our promise and will always be . . ." _the old radio cut out and Jake leaned over to adjust it. As he straightened up, he came face-to-face with an older station wagon that had drifted into his lane. He tried to swerve out of its path, but the almost head-on collision was inevitable, spinning Jake and the Roadrunner around and into a ditch.

Jake vaguely remembered the impact of the accident. The next thing he knew, he was awakening at a precarious angle, staring up toward the ceiling of the Roadrunner. He couldn't catch his breath, and his right thigh felt like it was on fire. He sat up with a great deal of effort, his head pounding unmercifully. He inspected his thigh, noting a decent-sized gash. There was no obvious foreign body, and the bleeding was minimal. He marshaled his strength and got out of the car, willing his head to stop swimming.

Standing on his right leg wasn't nearly as good an idea as it had seemed when he first woke up; the first few steps took his breath away. He limped across the street to the station wagon, packed heavily as though the occupants were on an extended vacation. An older couple, he discovered upon closer inspection. Neither had survived. Jake sent up a small prayer of thanksgiving that there were no children involved; the last thing he needed was the life of another child on his conscience. This was certainly bad enough.

Jake closed the door of the car and leaned against it, wondering what had caused the driver to cross the center line. It was then that he noticed what they must have seen: a mushroom cloud in the western sky – probably above Denver, he calculated mechanically, his brain attempting to come to terms with what he was seeing. Denver had been behind him, so he had not noticed it earlier. It probably caused his radio to go out, his painful brain reasoned.

Jake looked around him. Some time had passed since the impact of the collision; and he wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious. He hadn't seen another vehicle during that time. He calculated that he was ten miles from Green Ranch, about seven from Jericho. He had spoken with Heather when he left Denver, she would be expecting him. She would be terrified if he didn't show up, given the circumstances. He started limping along the highway as rapidly as he could manage between his injured leg and spinning head.

He hadn't gotten far when he heard the sound of childish voices.

"Help! Mister!"

"Mister!"

Jake turned, trying to locate the source of the voices and determine if they were real or yet another nightmare of the many that plagued him for the last few weeks. The sun was sinking low in the sky, but he could make out the profiles of two children running toward him from a farm road that branched off the highway.

"Mister, please, save her," one of the children called to him.

Jake started to limp toward them as quickly as he could. "Why? What is it?" he asked.

"They need your help," the little girl cried out, "Mister, please."

"Mister, please. I-I think they're dying," the boy cried.

"Come on, Mister," the little girl took Jake's hand and hurried him back along the farm road. Jake hadn't spent a great deal of time in Jericho in the past few years, but he thought he recognized the two children as McCall grandchildren. Joanna's youngest, and maybe one of Rachael's, he pondered as he hobbled and hopped along with them.

Mayor Johnston Green was surprised to find Deputy Bill Kohler and Deputy Jimmy Taylor and his family in his entry when came down the stairs.

"Gail, what's wrong," he asked.

"Oh, Johnston," Gail replied, kneeling in front of a tearful Woody Taylor.

They told Johnston what they had seen. He went to the telephone, but it was dead.

"Nothing," he reported, replacing the receiver and striding quickly down the hall, trying to collect his wits. He had no idea what was going on, but he was already thankful for the Planning Ahead Committee and all of the preparations his father had insisted upon.

"Alright, it looks like the explosion came from the west, maybe Denver. Jimmy, get on the Radio. I want everybody at the Sheriff's station. Activate the Ranger Squadron on call. I'll pick up Eric, let's move." Johnston gave out marching orders.

"Alright," Jimmy responded, ready to go after participating so many drills over the years.

"Dad, don't leave," said a concerned and tearful Woody Taylor.

"Come here," Jimmy said, kneeling down and giving Woody a hug. "I'll be back real soon, alright?"

Jimmy stepped out the front door and Johnston started after him when Gale stopped him.

"Johnston. . . Jake," she said, knowing her oldest would be driving home from Denver that day.

"We'll find him," Johnston replied, giving her a hug.

Chaos met Johnston as he entered Town Hall. Norman Perry and Shep Cale were arguing over mine evacuation, the Sheriff had questions about emergency plan even after all of the drills they had held, and one of the deputies asked if the country was under attack. Johnston could only think how much more chaotic it would have been without the drills and preparation.

Johnston requested Geiger counters, and Deputy Bill Kohler went to get them. At that point Grey Anderson arrived in the office.

"Ah, Grey, good to see you," said Johnston, a subtle hint of sarcasm in his voice. He thanked Bill for the Geiger counters and set the box on the counter. "We can always use the extra help."

"Oh, thank you Johnston, Eric" Grey responded, oblivious to the jibe. "What can I do to help?"

"We'll let you know," Johnston replied somewhat curtly.

"Does it work, Dad?" Eric asked as Johnston turned on one of the Geiger counters and scanned the air.

"Looks O.K.," Johnston replied as the Geiger counter emitted minimal clicking. As he turned it off, Theresa Frederickson rushed into the office with her two teenaged children, clearly agitated.

"Mr. Mayor . . . Sheriff . . . the bomb," she said.

"Yes, Ma'am. So far, there's no sign of any radiation. We'll keep checking around town, but . . ." Johnston tried to reassure her.

"No, no, no! No, Sir," Theresa interrupted emphatically. "The bus isn't back from the field trip with my daughter. Well, DO something! You should be out there, looking for Stacy."

Clearly this was not part of any scenario they had practiced.

"Ma'am. Theresa." Johnston tried to get the attention of the distraught woman. "This is the first we've heard of it, but we'll deal with it, alright? Just please don't worry."

"That's easy for you to say," Theresa shot back, "You don't have a child out there."

Johnston decided to overlook the last comment and concentrate on something constructive. He pulled out a map and laid it across the opposite counter "So the school bus was here, at the caves. O.K., who can tell me where they might have gone for repairs?"

"There's Wilson's Garage off Route 160," Wayne Carroll the Fire Chief suggested.

"Or Cedar Run Road," Eric proposed. "Principal McVey said they took a detour before the phone cut out."

"Well I figure with two teams there are only so many places they can be," Chuck Dawes the Sheriff put in.

"What about the parents?" Grey Anderson shouted across the office, stirring up the already tense group.

"Folks, Folks! FOLKS!" Johnston raised his voice to get their attention in the din. "Look I know that every part of you wants to just rush out there. I don't blame you. But as your friend I'm asking you to think about that. You're safe here. Now what if, God forbid, you go out there and you get stranded, and your child comes back an orphan? You know the Sheriff and his men. You know they'll find your kids. So... please." Johnston turned back to the map and to planning search teams while Grey continued to look aggravated.

It was all Jake could do to keep us with the kids; small talk was out of the question. He really didn't know what he was getting himself into until they rounded a bend in the road and saw the lights of the school bus in the dark. _Of course_, he thought to himself, _probably a field trip_.

"The deer went crazy and started running all over the road," the little girl cried, indicating the lifeless body under the right front wheel of the bus.

"Alright, just don't look at it," Jake replied as they approached the bus and he saw the deer first hand. He entered the bus with a fair amount of effort and pain, and immediately encountered the unconscious bus driver.

He heard a feminine voice ask "Is he alive?"

He answered 'yes' mechanically, not wanting to worry anyone. Frankly, he didn't have time to do anything heroic about the bus driver; he hadn't felt a pulse when he had briefly checked. He turned toward the voice and was surprised to see Hope Bennett sitting in one of the front rows, looking pained.

"Are you O.K.?" He asked her.

"Yeah," she responded nodding quietly, "but I, I think my leg is broken."

"Can you feel your toes?" Jake asked, willing his Army medic training to come to the front of his battered brain.

"Yeah," Hope responded, "Don't worry about me, worry about them." Jake took off his jacket and covered Hope.

"Is anybody hurt? Huh? Anybody?" Jake asked the children on the bus.

A boy toward the back of the bus raised his hand. Jake thought he might be a grandson of Jim and Judy Moore.

"Stacy's sick, she can't breathe," the boy reported.

Jake made his way to the rear of the bus, his leg continuing to plague him and his brain growing thicker with each passing minute. _'Can't breathe' falls under 'Airway'_; he made his brain run down the algorithm. _I'll have to fix this before we can go any further_.

"What's wrong? Huh? What happened?" He asked, stopping by the seat of a little girl who was clutching her throat and looking at him through terrified eyes. _No!_ He thought to himself, _not another little girl on my conscience. Please, God, let her live, whatever the problem is_.

"When the bus stopped, she was like this," the boy demonstrated by putting his throat against the back of the seat in front of him.

Jake knelt down in the aisle; trying to calm the little girl they called Stacy.

"It's O.K., let me see. Let me see, Stacy. It's going to be O.K. It's O.K." With this reassurance, Stacy took her hands away from her throat and Jake could see swelling and the bruise forming. Stacy was struggling to breathe. Jake could barely concentrate on the matter at hand; his vision was filled with the lifeless eyes of that other little girl. His head continued to throb, but he brought himself up sharply, telling himself that this little girl was still alive, and he needed to keep it that way.

"Do you have an ice pack?" Jake called to Hope. "We've got to stop the swelling now."

"Lucas, the first aid kit is under the seat," Hope instructed the boy.

"O.K. Come on. It's alright. Just keep breathing. Breathe normally, alright? It's O.K. It's O.K. You're fine. Just keep breathing normally. You're O.K." Jake continued with reassurances while waiting for Lucas to bring him the first aid kit. When it arrived, he took out the ice pack and cracked it to activate the chemical reaction. He placed the pack gently on Stacy's throat.

"Please," Stacy said to Jake in a gasping breath. "Hurts."

"Calm down. Hey Stacy! No, no, no, no," Jake cried as Stacy closed her eyes and went limp. He leaned down listening and feeling for respirations, but found none. The children around him were silent, aware of the gravity of the situation. One of them started to cry silently.

"Think, think, think," Jake said under his breath, the pounding in his head competing with the idea that he would have to think of something to save the girl's life.

"Alright," he said after a moment to collect his thoughts. "Look, I need everyone's help right now. Who has a pen? Does anyone?" The children stared at him blankly. "Does anybody have a pen? Alright, I need a pen."

"We have pencils," piped up the boy who had found him on the highway.

"No, I need a... I need a tube. Something hollow, um, a straw!" Jake was growing frantic.

"I have a straw," said the little girl from the highway.

"Here, let me see it, let me see it. Come on! That's too thin... Does anyone else have a juice box?"

The children answered with a chorus of "I do's".

"Alright, get them out. Get some Band-Aids out. What's your name?" Jake asked the girl from the highway."

"Julie," she answered.

"Alright, everybody give your straws to Julie, okay? Hurry! Quick! Make them into a circle." Jake hoped his instructions were making sense.

"Alright, you got that? Here you go, tape them together with those Band-Aids." Jake removed his pocket knife and cleaned it with a wipe from the first aid kit. He wasn't looking forward to doing this, but at the same time was grateful for the Army medic classes he had taken so many years ago.

"Who's the strongest kid? Huh?" Jake asked, not wanting to complicate things further by having his patient wake up and fight him while he was working with a knife. "You?" he asked the boy sitting behind Stacy. "You hold her shoulders down in case she wakes up okay? Don't look! Right here..." Jake performed an emergency cricothyroidotomy.

"Where's my straw?" He asked as he reached back toward Julie. He inserted the bundle of straws gently and gave Stacy two breaths.

"Go easy... O.K... come on..." Nothing happened, so he gave her another breath. Stacy took a breath and opened her eyes. Gone, for the moment, were the eyes of the little girl from Safa. All he could see was Stacy, and she was smiling at him ever so slightly. Her color improved almost immediately. He stroked her chin with his thumb in reassurance and then straightened up. The pains in his head and in his thigh were still there, but they didn't seem to matter anymore. He sat back on the opposite seat, relief washing over him that _this_ little girl would go in the 'win' column for him.

"How did you learn how to do that?" asked Lucas, the boy from the highway.

"Uh... Military school," answered Jake.

"Were you a soldier?" Lucas asked.

Jake laughed wryly. "No, a screw up." But he didn't feel like too much of a screw up at the moment. He carried Stacy to the front of the bus, the got out of the bus to move the deer to the side, exchanging looks with Hope in the process.

" Great! Where's the damn rescue party?" He mumbled to himself.

When he got back onto the bus, his next order of business was to move the bus driver out of the driver's seat. He had not felt a pulse when he had briefly checked earlier. Now that the heat of the moment had passed he took a look at the face of the bus driver. He recognized the man as Stanley Richmond's cousin Connor Jackson. Connor had been a year older than he and Stanley, graduating high school in 1990 and immediately enlisting in the Army. He had been in Desert Storm, and planned to stay in for his 20 and then retire, but Gulf War Syndrome had taken ahold of him and he had returned to Jericho shortly before the debacle with Chris Prowse. Jake knew Connor had been helping his brother on the farm; apparently he had been moonlighting as a bus driver by the looks of his well-worn work shirt.

Jake moved Connor to an empty seat with the assistance of two of the boys. He overheard Julie asking Hope if they were going to have school tomorrow.

"We'll figure it out, honey," Hope reassured her.

"I vote 'no'", Julie answered.

Heather was sitting upstairs in her bedroom. Chip was playing contentedly in his playpen. Heather was situated in her glider with her feet up and a bassinette on either side of her. As had become her habit, she fed the more demanding Sadie first and laid her back in her bassinette before reaching for the more patient Abby. They had gotten into a routine, but Heather was still tired from the constant demands on her time and energy. She couldn't wait for Jake to come home to help. He and Chip had become inseparable in the weeks since Jake had returned from Iraq. Heather must have fallen asleep during the moment of quiet, because she was suddenly awakened by a commotion outside. She was aware of the passage of time because the shadows were now long in the room. She glanced at the clock and noted it was just past 6:00pm. Jake had probably arrived home; that was probably the commotion downstairs, she thought as she laid Abby in her bassinette. She checked on the sleeping Sadie and Chip and went to the window to check for the familiar Roadrunner in the driveway below. It was then that she noticed the mushroom-shaped cloud in the western sky. Her blood ran cold and she felt physically ill.

Heather hurriedly quietly from the room and out to the front of the house where various residents of the Green Ranch were gathered.

"I heard the solar/wind system kick on and came out to see why," Joanna McCall was saying to Wes, who must have just come from the barn.

"What in tarnation is happening?" E.J. asked as Heather joined the group.

"I don't know, but I'll get my radio and call Town Hall." Heather turned and went back into the ranch house. The fact that Jake had not returned was nagging the back of her mind, but she figured he had swung into town to check on things before coming home.

"Ranger Base, this is Green Ranch, do you copy?" Heather checked in as soon as she reached her radio.

"Green Ranch, I copy," came the reply. "Everything OK with you Heather?"

"We're on wind/solar power, and we noticed the mushroom cloud in the west. Any word on what's going on, Jimmy?" Heather queried.

"Nothing yet. Oliver is here in the Sheriff's station trying to make contact with the HAM radio. Cedar Brook, Galloway, and a few other neighboring towns have checked in; they don't have power either. We still don't know what's causing this. I'll let you know if we hear."

"Thank you, Jimmy. Will you please send Jake home when you see him?" Heather asked.

"Um, I haven't seen Jake all week," Jimmy stammered. "Is he supposed to be here?"

"He was in Denver on business, but should have been home by six or so. I figured he went into town when he didn't arrive home. Just let him know I asked, please, if you see him." Now Heather was in a panic to get off the phone and start looking for Jake. She took the radio and went back outside to the group.

"They don't know anything yet," she informed Wes and Joanna. "Jake should have been home from Denver by six and he isn't in town, either. What should we do?"

"Did you notify Mayor Green?" Wes asked. "The Rangers should be able to look for him on the local roads. We'll work our way out from there."

Heather shook her head and held out the radio, not trusting her voice. Wes made the radio call while Joanna herded everyone over to the bunk house for dinner and Heather collected her now awake babies. Before they could begin eating, Gil Bennett arrived out of breath and asking questions, two toddlers in tow.

"Hope is substituting until the new third grade teacher arrives next week and they had a field trip to some caves in Gove County today – Monument Rocks or something? Anyway, she never got home. I saw the cloud and heard the power switch over while I was out doing chores. What's going on?"

Gil finally stopped for a breath as Joanna led him to a chair. "We don't know yet what has caused this, but we'll call the missing school bus in to Town Hall so the Rangers can be looking for it." Joanna reassured him.

Wes put actions to words and stepped out the back door with the radio. When he returned a few minutes later, he told them that the Sheriff had teams out looking for both Jake and the bus. Heather and Gil just looked at each other, at a loss for words.

Emmett Green and his new wife Eleanor were watching the news as they sat down to dinner in Kansas City. The sound on the Emergency Alert System caused them to look up, but at first they reasoned EAS drills were frequently held on Wednesdays and went back to their meal. When the tone continued, and then a voice began telling of multiple nuclear bombs which had been detonated in cities across the nation, they looked at each other in shock. Emmett grabbed a pen and paper from the counter and made notes of what broadcaster was saying. Brief film footage of people running away from a city was shown, and then the broadcast stopped. They still had power, but when Emmett changed the channels, none of the stations seemed to be broadcasting.

He picked up his cell phone from the counter and tried to make a call, but it wouldn't go through. The landline telephone was working, and he made several calls in rapid succession as Eleanor started gathering things from around the house to a central location. They had participated in the emergency drills in Jericho during the past few years and had developed a plan of action to be followed if an emergency such as this ever took place.

Within the hour, they were packed in their sedan and traveling across the city. The expected level of chaos was taking place – people were standing on the sidewalks of their upscale community, discussing the news with their neighbors. As they reached the commercial section of town, traffic was erratic as drivers tried to decide where to go and what to do. The highway was relatively clear as they made their way toward the University of Kansas and the home of the Norton family.

Laura Green Norton, her husband Mark and their son Curtis lived in a home near the campus of UK. Their daughter Michelle had graduated from nursing school and was sharing a nearby apartment with medical student Christy Peterson, also from Jericho – Doctor Peterson's daughter. One of Emmett's phone calls had been to alert Laura of the current events and give them an hour notice to get ready. She had, in turn, called the girls.

By the time Emmett and Eleanor arrived at the Norton home, everyone was packed and ready. Emmett left Eleanor and the packed car there and went with Mark Norton to the Greyhound Bus Station which was a short distance away. Without drawing any attention from the frantic staff, they parked Mark's non-descript compact car and boarded an empty bus parked behind the station. They made sure the gas tank was full. Mark had driven a school bus to pay his way through college, so driving a Greyhound bus was not too far of a stretch. They returned to his home with the newly liberated bus and everyone clambered aboard with their belongings.

The next stop was the Wal-Mart distribution center where Curtis Norton worked while attending college. While the Nortons and Emmett had contributed financially to the preparations made on their behalf in Jericho, it had occurred to them that they weren't able to bring anything special to the town's efforts. When Curtis had been hired to drive a forklift and load trucks a few years earlier, the plan had come together. If a situation occurred that was so catastrophic as to precipitate a nation-wide emergency, the rule of law would no longer exist. All they would need is a vehicle large enough to carry them and their shopping procurements to Jericho. That was when the Greyhound Bus idea came about. Passenger coaches typically have 400 gallon gas tanks and get 3.5 miles per gallon. About 100 gallons would be used on the trip to Jericho, providing the town with the excess 300 gallons. Under the coach were compartments usually used for luggage. They would nicely hold a great number of supplies.

While they had been packing the bus, the power had gone out. It was fully dark by the time they left the house, and the distribution center was deserted by the time they arrived. Curtis had a key, but it was unnecessary – apparently the evening shift had abandoned the warehouse without evening bothering to lock up.

Using flashlights and headlamps, each of the seven members of the group took a large cart and began walking up and down separate aisles locating things that would be useful in a long-term grid-down situation. During the planning stages, they had all enjoyed playing the "what if" game, announcing what they would choose. Now it was soberingly real. They knew where things were located due to the diagram Curtis had provided. The men collected work boots, sturdy shoes and work gloves, jeans, overalls and hunting gear, figuring it would be a long time before those items were produced again. The ladies collected boxes of deodorant, toothbrushes and toothpaste, sunscreen, Chap Stick, over-the-counter medication and first aid supplies. Laura remembered that Jake and Heather had just had twins and collected every box of diapers she could find in every size. Curtis went to the locked area where guns and ammunition were kept and collected everything they had. Christy and Michelle found the batteries and loaded all of them onto their industrial cart.

They met back up at the entrance to the warehouse, compared notes, and took their supplies to the bus. Curtis and Mark made another round in the warehouse looking for things they might have overlooked while the others loaded the boxes into the lower compartments of the bus. Finally they were packed and on the road again.

When they reached the edge of town, they went to the home of Dennis Duncan, Gail Green's youngest brother. He and his wife had asked to be included in the preparations of Jericho once he had heard about them, but his wife had died in a car accident the previous year leaving Dennis alone with three small children. Emmett and Eleanor Green and the Nortons had done what they could to support them while they adjusted. Dennis and Mark Norton worked together at the University of Kansas teaching mechanical engineering and chemistry respectively, so their social paths already crossed on occasion.

Having had a bit more time to get organized, Dennis had himself and his children neatly packed and waiting when the bus arrived to collect them. There were many helpers to load their things and help get them settled into the bus. At 10, Seth was the oldest and determined to be awake for the process. His sisters Melissa (7) and Natalie (5) had fallen asleep on the couch and were carried gently out by capable hands. On the road by 11pm, they hoped to reach Jericho by sunrise, depending upon road conditions. They had said a prayer for journey mercies and for the countless lives affected by the events of the day before leaving the Duncan home.

Sharon Brady was watching TV in the bedroom of her posh New York Apartment when the Emergency Alert System broke through and warned citizens that multiple nuclear bombs had been detonated in cities around the country. The voice of the announcer reassured Sharon that Manhattan had been spared, so she turned off the television and picked up a magazine to occupy herself instead. Her husband Bob was away at a late meeting and her daughter Olivia, in her senior year of college, was at an evening class. She made a mental note to tell them the news in the morning, thankful they lived in a city that could take care of itself. She rolled her eyes as a brief thought of Jericho and their paranoid plan of preparation passed through her mind. The magazine wasn't that interesting, and she had an early meeting, so she turned off the light and went to sleep.

Once Jake had cleared the driver's seat of the bus, he started the bus and headed back toward Jericho. His head had not stopped pounding and he was so sleepy. He looked in the rear view mirror at Hope. She, too, looked tired and painful. The trip back to town took far longer than it should have, but eventually they could see the lights in the distance. While the rest of the town seemed to be on solar/wind power, there was a gathering of people at the gas station and it looked to Jake like someone had started up the lights they used for road work. He headed the bus there, honking the horn as soon as he entered the town proper. There were ample volunteers to assist the children off the bus; then Gil Bennett and Heather were entering the bus to check on Hope and Jake. Jake couldn't think of a more welcome sight than Heather's face at that moment. He agreed to being taken to the medical center for sutures once Heather reassured him that their kids and the Bennett kids were safe at home under the watchful eye of Ellen McCall. He mentioned seeing a prison bus off the road when Eric passed by, then put his head back and drifted to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS version of Jericho. Or the Greyhound Bus Line, or Wal-Mart. No copyright infringement meant.

**Author's Note:** In my mind, this is where he story starts to veer wildly into AU land, since virtually everything will be different in a 'prepared' Jericho. That was kinda the point of the story *Ü*. Please let me know what you think!

**Chapter V: Fallout**

**September 21, 2006**

**Bombs + 1 Day**

Sharon Brady awakened to the sun on her cheek. _Impossible_, she thought to herself, _I have an early meeting, and plan to go the gym before the meeting_. She turned over to check her clock radio, but it was dark. Thinking a few unsavory thoughts about her power provider, she reached for her cell phone. When it was dark as well, she sat up. _How could both the power __**and**__ the cell service go out on the same day as her important meeting, _she wondered irritably to herself as she got up, wrapping a robe around herself and checking a battery-operated clock in the living room. The clock informed her the time was nine-thirty. It was then that she noted the absence of her husband Bob. Bob was frequently late, but had never failed to come home altogether. She poked her head back into the bedroom to confirm that he was not there. Shaking her head, she proceeded to the room of her daughter Olivia, who preferred evening classes and sleeping in.

"Olivia, time to rise and shine," she called, knocking on the bedroom door of her daughter. When she received no answer, she knocked again, and then peered in. The bed was made neatly as it had been left by the maid service the previous day. _The whole household has gone mad_, she thought to herself as she went to the intercom system to call down and request breakfast and the morning newspaper. When no one answered in office of the major domo, Sharon found herself growing angry.

Sharon slipped into her stylish gym clothing and let herself out of the front door of her penthouse apartment which overlooked Central Park. She knocked on the door of one of her neighbors, the elderly widow of a newspaper tycoon. When Geraldine finally came to the door, she looked confused and a bit disheveled, as though she might have been drinking the previous evening.

"My electricity isn't working and neither is my cell phone. My family didn't come home last night. Do you have power?" Sharon asked.

"Why, I don't know," Geraldine pondered slowly. "Perhaps we should speak with Charles," she suggested, referring to the third of four residents of the penthouse. Charles watched the news and generally kept the others informed of happenings in the building and neighborhood. The forth residence was the home of a couple who traveled extensively and was not well known by the others.

Charles answered his door promptly when the ladies knocked. He ushered them into his plush living room and encouraged them to be seated.

"Do you know what is going on? My power is off and my cell phone isn't working," Sharon repeated.

"Well, it may have to do with the bombs," Charles answered thoughtfully.

"But the newscaster said Manhattan wasn't affected," Sharon cried in an argumentative tone.

"Ah, I believe he said 'Manhattan wasn't hit'," Charles gently corrected her. "I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't something like happened back in November of '65. The hydroelectric plant in Niagara became overloaded, tripping every switch between Boston and New York and leaving 30 million people in darkness. Instead of taking in 300 thousand kilo-watts of electricity, one and a half million kilo-watts were draining out of the city, trying to supply areas cut off from the network . . ."

Sharon, having had enough of Charles' impromptu history lesson, interrupted him impatiently. "But when will the power be back on?"

"Well, it took 5 hours in 1965. But there were no nuclear bombs then," he responded, looking like he might resume his history lecture. Sharon stood and, mumbling something about looking for her family,and rapidly took her leave of his apartment.

By the time she had returned to her own front door, she was surprised to find it standing open. She could hear voices from inside, so she tentatively walked into the hall.

"Oh good, there you are," Bob Brady said jovially as Sharon peered around the corner into the living room. "Miranda was just telling stories about the two of you attending high school together in Jericho."

Miranda Thompson has been in Sharon's class in school. They had shared the mutual dream of leaving Jericho behind as they made their way in the world until Grant Stevens had become sole heir to the majority of the local salt mine. Grant had been quite a bit older than Miranda when he moved to Jericho, and Miranda had been captivated by him. When he showed an interest in her, and later courted her, she was easily taken in by his good looks and money. He promised her regular trips to exotic cities, and she had been easily persuaded to marry him. Grant invited his college friend Grey Anderson to Jericho to help run the mine, and they had moved into a home in _The_ _Pines_ as soon as it was built. Sharon had initially felt like her friend had sold out on their dream, but Grant had made good on his promises and they had been regular visitors to the Manhattan home of Sharon and Bob. Bu why were they here in her home now?

"Why, Miranda, Grant. How lovely to see you," she said, going to give them each air kisses near each cheek. "What brings you here this morning?"

"Well, we were in the city shopping, and we heard about the bombs," Miranda started to explain. "The power was out when we woke up this morning, and you were the first ones we thought of. We were in a hotel just down the street."

"I found them on the front steps when I arrived home," Bob continued the explanation. "I was on the subway home last night when the power went out. We were stuck underground for a few hours, and then we were instructed to leave the car and walk along the catwalk, back toward the station. I waited in the station until sunrise, and then walked home, since I couldn't hail a cab. We've all had to walk up the 20 flights of stairs, if you can believe it?"

"What about Olivia?" Sharon interrupted them. "Did she come up with you?"

"What do you mean? Isn't she here?" Bob asked in surprise.

"She had an evening class and never came home," Sharon replied with shrug , "Perhaps she stayed with a friend on campus. I'm sure the power will be back on soon and we can call her."

"I'm not sure," Grant interjected, "It looks as though things might be more serious than that." While Grant Stevens had never fully bought into the preparedness plan Jericho was selling, he was a shrewd businessman, and had been paying attention to the signs. Miranda and Sharon, and probably Bob, who had been born and raised in the city, might not see the importance of being in a rural community during this type of an event, but he certainly did. He had a growing concern over the well-being of their only daughter Skylar, but did not want to voice it in front of Miranda, preferring to allow her blissful ignorance to go on as long as possible.

"Don't be silly," Sharon laughed, "We're talking about New York City. The Big Apple. We'll do just fine as soon as things settle down."

The Greyhound bus from Kansas City pulled into the driveway at Green Ranch just past 7am. The sky had been growing light for more than an hour, and the occupants of the bus could see the storm clouds developing in the western sky.

Jake had slept soundly during the early part of the night, and then awakened with leg pain as light began to filter into their bedroom. He was standing at the windows pondering the growing cloud bank to the west when the Greyhound bus pulled into the driveway and stopped.

"What the . . ." Jake said under his breath, pulling a T-shirt on over his flannel pajama pants and heading out of the room and down the stairs. As he exited the front door, the occupants of the bus were stretching and leaking out of the bus with dazed looks on their faces. Although they were road-weary, he recognized them immediately.

"Uncle Emmett, Eleanor, does Greyhound have a new stop at Green Ranch?" Jake asked in mild confusion.

"Something like that," Emmett replied dryly, "it's a long story. We'll explain later. What do you make of that storm coming up? We heard Denver was hit before we lost power last night."

"We knew about Denver and Atlanta. Do you know of others?" Jake asked in a low voice, now totally awake.

"We heard about Lawrence;" Emmett responded, "saw the mushroom cloud, had to detour way to the north before we could get back on the I-70 west of Topeka. The Emergency Alert System also mentioned St Louis and Chicago. I hadn't heard about Atlanta."

By this point, the other travelers had gotten off the bus. Jake greeted his uncles with handshakes and his aunts with hugs. He helped to herd the sleepy Duncan children while leading the rest of the group into the house just as Heather came down the stairs, a twin in each arm and Chip trailing behind. Somber greetings were exchanged as Heather began to prepare breakfast with the help of Eleanor and Laura while Michelle and Christy played with the babies and saw to the needs of the Duncan children.

"So, that storm will be here in two to three hours," Emmett was saying, returning the conversation to the topic of immediate urgency.

"Everyone will need to take cover," Dennis Duncan said, stating what everyone was already thinking.

"We'll be fine here in the basement at the Ranch," Jake said, "this is what we've prepared for. I should head on into town and help Dad with the folks who don't have basements. Everyone in town has an assigned shelter, but some folks have difficulty following directions," Jake concluded with a wry chuckle.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to go into town with you," Christy Peterson put in. "My Dad is probably worried sick about me."

"I'm sure Jake will be happy to take you, but you both need to eat breakfast first," Heather interjected in her best teacher voice. "Heaven only knows when you'll get another meal. I'll fix your plates first. Jake, why don't you radio into town so they can get things started?"

Jake held up a radio to show Heather that they were on the same page, as usual. From the sounds of it, the town was already getting organized for the storm. He and Christy ate a hurried breakfast and then set out for town.

Jake parked in front of the Medical Center and went in with Christy. She went in search of her father and Jake looked for his sister-in-law April. During his brief conversation with his father, Jake had learned that standard town shelter protocol would be followed.

Jake informed April of the coming storm and the plan of action once he found her. She accompanied him to the basement to check things out and found things in the same good order they had been during the most recent monthly walk-through instituted by the Planning Ahead Committee.

"Just imagine if we hadn't prepared," April said to Jake as they took a moment to admire the neatly laid-out room. "We'll never know how many lives will be saved by Grandpa Green's foresight. I know he's growing confused, but I hope he is aware enough to understand how much we appreciate his insistence."

"I'll talk to him once I have a quiet minute. For now, let's get the patients moved down here before that storm arrives." Jake replied, turning to head back up the stairs to start the process.

At town hall, Johnston was reviewing the town shelter plan with those gathered in the Sheriff's Office.

"As you know, Jericho has three community underground shelters. Those with their own basements should stay home and use them. The folks who are currently patients at the medical center will shelter there in the basement with their families. Working staff will also shelter there. The rest of the town would take shelter in their assigned shelter; either in the basements of their homes, the basement of Town Hall, or the basement of the school for those who lived in the trailer park and apartments."

Rob Hawkins, a newcomer to town who had made his presence known the night before, interjected his thoughts at that point. "Those who shelter in their own basements need to seal up the rest of their homes with plastic and duct tape; anything they can get their hands on."

"How do you know about radiation, Mr. Hawkins," Eric asked, with at least a little suspicion.

"Because I was a cop in St. Louis. And after 9/11 we got up to speed. So our biggest problem could be the rain," Hawkins replied, patiently returning the subject to the point.

"But won't the rain carry the radiation out of the air," Shep asked.

"Yes, and bring it straight down on Jericho. A direct concentrated hit, any one exposed too long . . ." Hawkins let the words hang in the air.

"Alright, look," Johnston broke in. "We have planned and drilled for this eventuality. We will follow the plan and things should go smoothly. Eric, get the word out." Eric moved to the radio and sent out a brief message on the Jericho emergency band advising residents of the impending storm and the plan to be followed.

Johnston and Eric then proceeded to the shelter under Town Hall to give in a final once-over; Grey Anderson tagging along behind.

"Jake and I used to play down here when we were kids," Eric said in a reminiscing voice, looking around at the well-stocked shelter.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing E.J. had Jericho prepare after all," Grey muttered. "I still think what you all did was extreme, but the shelters may have been a decent idea."

Johnston and Eric just rolled their eyes as they headed back up to the office to make sure things were running smoothly. It might appear as though Grey was making concessions, but they knew he would back-peddle given the first opportunity.

In Bailey's Tavern, Mary Baily kept an eye on the woman she had seen interacting with Stanley Richmond earlier in the week.

"You're not from around here, are you?" She finally asked

"No," the woman replied. "I came from D.C. to supervise a little audit on a farm. Is God punishing me?"

"Look, you should really get to the basement at town hall," Mary warned her.

"Ya think?" The woman asked sarcastically, making no move to leave.

Back at the Medical Center, Jake responded to a summons from April. She was in a patient room with a mother and her baby, a newborn in an isolette.

"She thinks we shouldn't move the baby," April filled Jake in on the dilemma.

"Ma'am. Your baby is protected in this little bubble," Jake began patiently, thinking of his own baby girls at home. "She's got fresh air and food. Right now she's the safest person in Jericho. But you're not. We need to make sure she has a mother to take care of her when this thing is over. Okay? Please! Please let us take you both down to the shelter," the woman began nodding in agreement. "Okay? Okay..."

Jake walked out of the room, leaving April to orchestrate the transfer. Once in the hallway, he was stopped by Ruth Dawes, the wife of the Sheriff.

"Jake Green!" Mrs. Dawes implored Jake.

"Just a second, Ma'am," Jake tried to put her off in order to complete the task at hand.

"I'm Emily Sullivan's Aunt," Mrs. Dawes continued, not to be put off.

"Mrs. Dawes, Hi," Jake replied.

"Have you seen Emily?" She asked.

"No, not since yesterday," Jake responded. "Maybe she's at the other shelter."

"Nobody over there has seen her." Ruth Dawes insisted. "She's not at her house. I heard you were back in town, and I figured the one person that would know. . ."

Jake was not pleased with the implication. He and Heather had been happily married for more than three years; he and Emily had been over for more than 15 years. "Sorry... I have to go. But if I see her, I'll tell her you were looking for her. But I'm sure she's fine." With that, Jake turned his back on the woman and returned to the tasks at hand.

In the Town Hall shelter, reference material on nuclear bombs was being reviewed. The town had prepared for a number of potential threats and had stocked up on information for each, so it was simply a matter of reviewing the correct books and pamphlets. Things looked to be in pretty good order.

Johnston sent one of the men to the radio to advise the farmers to make sure the livestock was sheltered during the storm. Rob Hawkins volunteered to work with Oliver Wilson on the HAM radio, attempting to make contact with the governor of Kanas additional towns. Johnston headed over to the church to round up the people who had held a vigil during the night. They needed to come over to the shelter before the storm reached town.

Soon the townspeople had taken up lodging in their assigned shelters. The folks from the church vigil had assimilated into the Town Hall shelter, but Gail noticed Johnston missing from the group. She interrupted Eric's train of thought:

"Eric, have you see you Father? He told me he was going to the church."

Grey interrupted, "Gail, the folks from the church got here 20 minutes ago."

"Eric!" Gail cried.

"Mom, we'll find Dad," Eric reassured the distraught woman. He and a crew of men from Town Hall searched the Church and Main Street, then returned to Town Hall and were in the process of going over every inch looking for the missing Mayor.

Eric came to the office where Oliver and Mr. Hawkins were working with the HAM radio. "Mr. Hawkins, have you seen my father come through here?" Eric asked.

"No, I haven't seen him," Mr. Hawkins replied apologetically.

"Mom, check the offices again," Eric suggested. "Maybe we missed something. I need to check out the parking lot. Look, we'll find him, OK?" he added after a look from his mother.

"Be careful," Gail added.

"Alright, I will." Eric said, nodding as he exited Town Hall.

"Could you use some help, Ma'am," Hawkins asked Gail, standing from the radio and approaching her.

"No, we need you on the radio," Gail replied, anxiety evident in her voice.

"You know, I can't seem to get any more information from it," Hawkins said with a sheepish laugh.

"Alright," Gail said gratefully, "come, please."

Hawkins and Gail were going office to office calling for Johnston when they finally found him collapsed behind the desk of the Mayor's office. Hawkins and Eric were able to help Johnston down to the shelter and summon April to evaluate him. Apparently the cold she had seen him for earlier in the week had grown more serious. Hawkins made himself scarce once he had helped to settle Johnston.

Jake hated to be separated from his family yet again, but he really couldn't leave in the middle of the storm and drive home. He afforded himself the luxury of calling Heather on the short wave radios they each carried to make sure Green Ranch was situated to ride out the storm and to inform her that he was safely sheltered in the hospital basement. Without the weather service, they could only estimate, but it looked like the storm would last all night. Preparations were made for that eventuality.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS version of Jericho. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's Note:** I forgot to mention it last chapter ~ Thank you all for the lovely reviews the past two chapters! It certainly increases my motivation to write!

**Chapter VI: Four Horsemen**

**September 22, 2006**

**Bombs + 2 Days**

By the time the rain had stopped, the all-clear had been given from Town Hall, and the patients moved back up to their rooms in the Medical Center, Jake wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse. He had heard a rumor of Grey Anderson forming a fact-finding group that would head out to discover what they could and he felt he should be there at the meeting at Bailey's to support his Father

Before he could leave the Med Center, he heard that Stanley Richmond had come in with possible radiation poisoning. Jake found him in the pediatric isolation room waiting for the all-clear. Stanley had told him about the escaped prisoners dressed up as deputies, and the gun fight between them and Emily Sullivan he had walked into. He also mentioned the line of tanks he had seen heading toward Denver.

"Have you thrown up since you were exposed?" Jake finally asked.

"Yeah, a couple times," Stanley said sardonically. "Apparently that's what happens when you drink a bottle of iodine. I need to get back to the house. I need to check on the livestock, I need to check on the corn. I need to get out of here."

"There's really nothing you can do right now," Jake responded sympathetically.

"He's right," Bonnie agreed with Jake. "You need to stay."

"I'm really sick of being poked with needles every ten minutes. They'll be sorry when my spidey- powers kick in," Stanley replied, making spider-man noises.

"Well you're still an idiot, so that's a good sign," Jake said with a laugh. He thanked Stanley for the information and headed for Bailey's.

Johnston and Eric were walking across the street from Town Hall to Bailey's when Jake arrived from the Medical Center.

"So, how were your shelter experiences?" Jake asked wryly.

"Pretty smooth, thanks to your Grandfather. I can only imagine how things might have gone if we hadn't been prepared. I guess you heard about Grey Anderson's plan," Johnston asked, shaking his head.

"Yes, that's why I'm here. I thought a little Green solidarity couldn't hurt during this time of crisis," Jake answered.

"Thank you, Son. The support is appreciated." Johnston gave his sons a nod as he pushed through the front doors of Baily's Tavern.

Grey was standing at the pool table with Abrahams, Crossfield, and several other employees from the salt mine. They were looking at road maps and discussing routing options.

"Abrams, you and Crossfield are taking the northern route up to the state police barracks in Broken Bow, Nebraska," Grey was making assignments. "I can go east to Topeka and connect  
with the State Government, and Ridley can head west to Denver. Or what's left of it."

"He'll probably run into a ring of FEMA and EMS people before he ever gets in sight of the city. See what they know," Norman Perry recommended.

Johnston had heard enough and broke in. "Grey, what exactly are you planning here?"

"We're too vulnerable sitting here without knowing anything," Grey responded in an argumentative tone. "I think we should go out in each direction and figure out what's going on."

"North, south, east and west. Like the four horsemen of the apocalypse," Norm Perry chimed in again.

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Johnston replied dryly. "Furthermore what makes you say 'we don't know anything'? We knew last night there were explosions in Denver and Atlanta. We learned from the folks that came in this morning from Kansas City that Lawrence, St Louis and Chicago were also hit. Oliver and Mr. Hawkins here have been taking turns manning the HAM radio and picked up news that Philadelphia, San Diego and Dallas had been hit. We not only survived the potential fallout rainstorm, I think we did very well. We are prepared for this. To go out driving around would be foolish."

When Jake heard his father mention the name Hawkins, his eyes shot up from the map and searched the room until he found his former classmate standing in the shadows, looking back at him. They exchanged nods, and Jake returned his attention to the heated conversation going on around him.

"If you insist upon going out there, you are certainly free to go," Johnston was saying, "but you go as a private citizen, with your own supplies. In my opinion, we have plenty of information to stay here and function, but not nearly enough information to go driving around the countryside stirring up trouble."

Jake, Eric and many of the members of the group were nodding in agreement with Johnston. Even as he spoke, the snow on the television of the tavern turned to a poor quality picture and a newscaster speaking an oriental language could be heard. Behind him, a map of the United States showed red targets over numerous cities.

"Was that Korean?" Eric asked when the signal was lost. "Does anybody know?"

"I think it was Chinese," Jake replied.

"Mandarin," Mr. Hawkins added.

"The question is, were they just reporting it, or were they behind it?" Jake asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Did Stanley see if there were any markings on the side of the tanks?" Eric queried.

"No," Jake answered.

"Maybe we're being invaded," Eric said glumly.

"Abrams and Crossfield are out. They won't drive into a war zone." Grey informed the group.

"Yeah, well, I don't blame them," Eric agreed. "Why don't you put this plan on hold right now? We saw one image; we'll probably see more."

"Going out is more important than ever, alright? If this country is at war, we need to know it," Grey persisted, returning to the maps and the group gathered at the pool table.

"Okay, we have Los Angeles, Seattle, and Philadelphia. What else did you see on the TV?" Jake heard Emily, Mary and others talking as they looked over a United States map, trying to remember what they had seen on the brief news feed. He tried to make his way toward Hawkins but was stopped by his father.

"So I've been wondering how you and that school bus made it past the Rangers on patrol the other night," Johnston asked Jake pointedly.

Jake looked a bit sheepish. "I took a shortcut across the back of the salt mine property and came into town through the parking lot of the farm equipment store. It's an old route we used to use when I was younger. Why do you ask?"

"We had a disaster drill the summer you were in Afghanistan," Johnston started his explanation. "It started out as an infectious disease scenario and turned into a zombie apocalypse scenario when some of the young people talked about reading those _Walking Dead _comic books. Apparently there's a town in the story that fortifies its borders and survives the apocalypse nicely. It got us to thinking, and we ended up reinforcing the perimeter of Jericho pretty well, leaving just six entrances for the Rangers to need to patrol. I certainly hope it will never come down to that, but I'm glad we have that safety net in place. Of course that had the farmers asking about their safety, so we ordered enough concertina wire to form a perimeter around the farms and the salt mine. We have two rows in place and had ordered a third but it hadn't arrived when all of this happened. At least we have the two."

"Wow, Dad, you all put a lot more effort into this while I was away," Jake said. "I can look over the plans and let you know of any more shortcuts I'm aware of."

"Thanks, Son, I appreciate it." Johnston replied as he was pulled away to discuss other matters.

Jake made his way to where Hawkins had seated himself in a booth, away from the crowd. "I take it you knew about the bombs before they went off?" Jake asked him pointedly.

"Well, yes, you could say that." Mr. Hawkins replied warily. "It's kind of a long story. I'll tell you sometime."

"I'll bet you will," Jake replied. "Just answer me this: Are we still on the same side?"

"I brought my family to Jericho, didn't I?" Mr. Hawkins asked indignantly.

"Well, yes," Jake answered, noting that Hawkins had not answered his question. "Why _did_ you bring your family here, Mr. Hawkins?"

"Because I knew it would be a safe place, Jake," Hawkins answered in a somewhat patronizing tone, as though speaking to a child. "I'll explain the rest when we can speak freely. Come over to the house one day and we'll talk. I am told we bought the 'Old Thompson Place'," he added with a smirk.

"Alright," Jake replied, accepting that he wasn't going to get any further answers during the conversation. They parted ways and Jake checked in with his father again before heading home to Green Ranch.

It was Friday evening, and the McCalls would be holding their usual get-together; even the apocalypse couldn't stop that. The folks at the ranch house gathered around Jake when he arrived home, eager to hear what he had discovered in town. They had several hours before going to dinner at the bunk house, so the adults were seated in the great room while the children played outside with the McCall children and the babies had their afternoon nap.

Jake told them what he knew so far about the bombs falling in multiple cities, and the way they had learned about each of the various cities. "So we really have no yet who is responsible or how many cities have been affected altogether, but I think we are doing pretty well information-wise considering the grid has been down. The town did pretty well with the fallout storm, with a few notable exceptions.

"Apparently Leavenworth was transferring several federal prisoners to Denver for trial and the bus was having trouble with a tire. Looks like they got off the I-70 and were headed for Wilson's Garage when the bus's tire blew out and the bus went into a ravine. The Sheriff and several deputies must have mistaken the prison bus for the school bus. They were shot and killed by a prisoner who had escaped his shackles and overpowered the guard." That information had reached Johnston just before Jake left town.

"Somehow, the prisoners got the better of Jimmy and Bill and had them tied up in the trunk of their sheriff's car. The escaped prisoners were dressed in Jimmy and Bill's uniforms when they came across Emily walking by the side of the road with a gas can."

"Wait a minute. What was Emily doing by the side of the road?" Heather broke in. "How could she have run out of gas in her own hometown?"

"I know, Babe," Jake reassured her, "I don't understand it, either. Or how she didn't think it was odd that she didn't recognize the two deputies who picked her up. But it is Emily we're talking about, here. I know better than to ask too many questions." Jake and Heather shared an eye-roll before he continued.

"The deputies said they were low on gas, too, so Emily directed them to Richmond Ranch. By the time Stanley got home from helping his cousins with the livestock, Emily and Bonnie had fed the prisoners breakfast and Emily was in a standoff with them. She ended up shooting one of them and he shot the other before they freed Bill and Jimmy and they all took shelter in their storm cellar. Stanley was exposed to some rain and went to the Medical Center to be evaluated. I found him in the pediatric isolation room waiting for his spidey-powers to kick in, so I think he'll be OK.

"In the meantime, Grey Anderson decided the town needed more information, so he organized scouts to go out in each direction. Dad tried to talk him out of it until we had more information or had a specific mission, but they seemed pretty determined. I think they were planning to leave this afternoon."

"Well, that's Grey Anderson for you," E.J. put in as the group dispersed. He continued to have trouble with his memory, but was very much aware of the current crisis, and glad for the preparations the town had made. He went to his room to have a rest before going to the McCalls.

In the Manhattan apartment of the Brady family, tensions were running high. The power had not been restored, and there had been no sign of FEMA or other government help. They had grilled the meat from the freezer during the first 24 hours and generally pretended as though nothing was happening. By the end of 48 hours, they had used up most of their water and food. They could see the chaos going on below their windows. Olivia had arrived home on Thursday afternoon, having come from school on foot. She had been chased by local hoodlums and lost her backpack, but was otherwise unharmed.

A meeting was called for Friday evening. Geraldine and Charles were invited to the Brady apartment to discuss the options of the group.

"We can't stay here very much longer without help. We've used up most of your supplies," Grant Stevens began. He had been the force behind holding a meeting and coming up with a plan of action if FEMA did not show up to help. "We appreciate you taking us in, but we have drained your resources. It is only a matter of time before all of the supplies have been used and you all have to make a decision anyway. I think we're better off traveling in a group. We saw what happened to Olivia yesterday. Each day will just get worse as people get more desperate. If we start out before we use all of our supplies, then we will have some food to take with us. What do you all think?"

"You know none of us has automobiles," Charles opened the dialog. "Where would we go? And how would we get there? I doubt there will be much in the way of public transportation available."

"We live in Jericho, Kansas," Grant answered. "We thought they were crazy, but Jericho has spent the past 5 years preparing for just this type of thing. Our teenaged daughter is there, so we will go there under any circumstance. The Bradys have family there. I'm sure Jericho will find a place for you if you want to come with us."

"Why, I can't leave," Geraldine cried in alarm. "Who would take care of my cats?"

"Perhaps you could find someone else in the building to watch them?" Grant asked hopefully.

"Oh, no," Geraldine exclaimed disdainfully. Generally, the folks in the penthouse apartments did not associate with the residents of the other apartments. "I'll just stay here with my kitties. I certainly don't want to travel in these conditions."

The group was somewhat surprised, especially the Stevens, who did know Geraldine as well. She was elderly, and somewhat frail, however. Grant wasn't sure she would travel well. Looking at the other members of the group, he wasn't entirely sure how well any of them would travel. None of them was used to roughing it or doing without the creature comforts. It had been difficult enough for them to live in their posh New York apartment without electricity; he could only imagine taking them on the road.

Geraldine had collected her things and returned to her home, declaring that she had no further interest in the meeting. Grant proceeded with his agenda for the meeting.

"So, is everyone else up for a road trip?" Grant asked, trying to drum up enthusiasm.

"You never answered Charles' question. How will we get there?" Olivia asked in a disrespectful tone that had Grant wondering if Skylar sounded like that to others.

"Well, we all have sturdy legs. We can walk about ten miles per day when we cannot find rides. We can camp at night or stay wherever we can find lodging."

"You've got to be kidding, I am not _walking_ to Kansas," Olivia cried, revolted with the very thought of going to Kansas, let alone walking there.

Grant was growing impatient with Olivia and her attitude. He took a deep breath and turned toward Bob and Sharon. "I understand that Jericho wouldn't be your first choice, but it may be your only choice given the circumstances. Miranda and I need to get home to Skylar. Are you coming or not?"

"Why, I don't know," Sharon prevaricated. "Couldn't we just give it a few more days and see if FEMA doesn't come and fix things? We paid taxes all those years for them to help if we needed help, and I think this qualifies."

Charles broke into the conversation for the first time. "I'm afraid Grant is right. I don't think help will come. If it does, it will be too little, too late. We had best take care of ourselves. I have some camping equipment and a backpack. I think we'll find that the Duntreaths also have backpacking equipment. We've discussed backpacking trips in the past. They are our absent neighbors," he explained, turning toward Grant Stevens. "Do you think it would be considered stealing under these circumstances," He mused thoughtfully.

"I really don't think they'll be back," Grant answered gently. "Shall we look in their apartment for the things we need? We can start a pile of things here by the elevator. Let's see if we can get packed up tonight and leave first thing in the morning, OK?"

Charles had a key to the Duntreaths' apartment, so he and Grant went in to look for supplies. They must have had a dog that they had boarded or took with them because a flat of canned dog food was located in the pantry. They took that to Geraldine to feed her cats, and planned to leave Geraldine the keys to all of the apartments when they left so she could help herself as needed.

Charles had been correct. They found two light-weight backpack frames and extensive gear including a decent stash of freeze-dried food. It wouldn't get them all the way to Jericho, but it would help. They put the backpacks and food by the elevators and noted that the others had placed things there as well. They went back for a compact camp stove and a tent. Then they looked through the rest of the apartment for useful items. They would need items for barter once their supplies ran out, and perhaps to pay for transportation. Paper currency would probably not be useful for long. Charles had volunteered to bring his coin collection to barter. They found Zoe Duntreath's jewelry and scooped it into a bag. They also brought all of the coffee they could find.

The pile by the elevators was growing. They brought out a bathroom scale to equalize the loads based upon the size of the individual. The three men would carry the bona fide backpacks and the three ladies would carry day packs. They would plan to use the canned food first because it was heavier to carry. They had no firearms, but managed to locate a few knives between the Duntreaths' apartment and Charles supplies to be used for self-defense and possible hunting. They also found several individual water filter/purification systems. They would start with as much water as they had and could carry and then purify what they could find. And hope to find helpful people along the way. Charles and Grant exchanged their concerns about taking this group half way across the country on foot, but there was little choice in the matter.

Jake and Heather were heading to the McCalls with the three babies that evening when Jake's radio went off. Johnston informed him that Norm Perry had brought back a flight data recorder from a plane that had landed near the Smokey Hill Bridge. He wanted Jake to come in to town to see if they could listen to it. Jake got Heather settled and headed for town.

The Sheriff's Office was crowded with people as Jake sat down in front of the old reel-to-reel player. He was soon able to load the tape and locate the last 30 seconds of recording. As he played it for the group, he became aware of another voice in the background. He was able to isolate it and reassure Emily that the plane of her fiancé Roger had landed safely. He held no ill wishes toward Emily and was happy to be able to be able to give her this piece of good news. Not all of the people on flights had been so lucky.

Once he completed the task that brought him to town, Jake left Town Hall. Gail had mentioned that the town was having a Bar-B-Q of the meat from Gracie Leigh's store. The atmosphere was festive, but he didn't stay. He couldn't wait to be back at Green Ranch with his family.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS version of Jericho. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's Note:** This is bonus content that occurs between the episodes Four Horsemen and The Walls of Jericho. We will use this time to catch up on the personal lives of Jake and Heather, the rest of the Green family, and all of the other characters in my mind.

**Chapter VII: Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch . . .**

**September 24, 2006**

**Bombs + 3 Days**

By the time Jake had arrived home from town Friday night, Heather was already at home and had the babies asleep in bed. They exchanged pleasantries and Jake went straight to sleep, exhausted. When he awakened Saturday morning, Heather was not in bed next to him. Chip had been moved into the sitting-area part of their room with the twins when the bombs fell and the out-of-town relatives arrived. It might be considered a tight squeeze by standard considerations, but Jake found that he enjoyed having his family close during this time of uncertainty.

He raised his head and could see that Heather was asleep in her glider with a twin asleep in her arms; probably Abby, he thought to himself with a smile. They weren't even two weeks old yet, but he already knew their personalities and patterns. Of course it helped that they weren't identical. He remembered when people had mistaken him and Eric for twins from time to time over the years because they were so close in size. The older they got, the less they liked it. He hoped the girls would be closer friends.

And Chip! What a character he was becoming. Jake loved having Chip tag along with him as he went to the barn to check on the horses or just walked from room to room in the house. Already full of questions, and he wouldn't turn two until Christmas. Jake wasn't sure if it was just Fatherly pride, or if Chip really was brighter than the other kids his age. Of course Jake had picked things up quickly, and Heather was no slouch in the brains department. It wouldn't be all that surprising for their kids to be bright. Jake made a mental note to watch for signs of boredom in school so Chip wouldn't follow the same route he had followed. Then he cut short his thought process. By the time Chip got to be school-aged, the country would look completely different than it had when Jake had gone through school. Would there even be schools by then? They had no idea if the federal government still existed. Jake felt a wave of gratefulness to his Grandfather that Jericho had taken the time to prepare so that they all stood a better chance of even being around that long.

Grandpa. He did pretty well with his memory when he was around people who understood and continually reminded him of the little things like who people were and the day of the week. The higher level of activity and the influx of people in the house actually seemed to perk him up as he helped to get everyone settled under these new and ambiguous circumstances.

The out-of-towners. Dennis Duncan had planned to take his kids and stay with Johnston and Gail but they all began to re-think that plan when they saw how happy the kids were at Green Ranch with the McCall kids and all the farm animals. Julie McCall (8), the little girl who had found Jake on the highway after the bombs, had become the new best friend of Melissa Duncan (7) and Natalie Duncan (5). Bernadette McCall, now 6, rounded out the group whenever she came to the ranch with her parents. Seth Duncan (10) was serious for his age and eager to learn all about the ways of the ranch. The older McCall grandsons and the ranch hands didn't mind him tagging along because he was just as willing to work as he was to ask questions. None of the Duncan children had really gotten over the loss of their Mother the previous year, so Dennis was pleased to see them take an interest in life again. When it had been suggested that he and the children stay at the ranch he quickly agreed, even if it meant him sharing a room with the kids for the foreseeable future.

Thus the four upstairs bedrooms at the ranch house were filled with Jake and his family, Dennis Duncan and his kids, Emmett and Eleanor Green, Mark and Laura Norton. Michelle Norton had gone into town to stay with Christy Peterson and her family, thinking it would be better to be close to the Medical Center if she was going to be working odd shifts. She got her own room; that was something she could not have hoped for at Green Ranch. Curtis Norton had taken up residence in a vacant room in the bunk house with the single ranch hands.

Chip was stirring in his crib and soon his dark head popped up and he looked at Jake. Jake made an exaggerated "Shhh" motion as he got up and pulled a sweatshirt on over his pajama pants. He walked in stocking feet over to the crib and picked Chip up, grabbing a fresh diaper and wipe as he turned to leave the room. He made a mental note to hang something over the windows so the morning sun wouldn't awaken Chip so early. Heather and the girls remained asleep.

Jake was determined to stay at home today and help Heather so she could get some sleep. He knew that his parents, Eric and April would be over for lunch and to have a family meeting. There were a lot of decisions needing to be made about Jericho and Jake appreciated the fact that his Father was seeking his input.

Once downstairs, he found Emmett and Eleanor making breakfast. He quickly changed Chip and handed him off to Eleanor while he washed his hands. By the time he returned, Chip was seated in his high chair happily eating scrambled eggs. E.J. had arisen was making his way to the table. They enjoyed a companionable breakfast in relative quiet until Jake heard Sadie voice her discontent with something upstairs. They all rolled their eyes and laughed as Jake hopped up to go and help Heather.

By the time Jake, Heather and the girls returned to the dining table, the Nortons and the Duncans had come down and were eating. Jake was pleased with how flexible everyone seemed to be – helping out as needed and taking turns with cooking and clean up. He added things up – 14 people suddenly living under one roof for the foreseeable future. He knew this wasn't really what Heather had expected when they had gotten married and made a mental note to make sure she was O.K. with the invasion of their home.

By the time Johnston, Gail, Eric, April and their kids arrived, the ranch house residents had managed to eat a leisurely breakfast, enjoy an abundance of good conversation, and start preparations for lunch. It had been good to catch up on each other's lives and do a little short-term planning for the future Not unlike the philosophy of the McCalls, this grid-down situation was being viewed like a prolonged sleepover or camping trip. Jake shouldn't have been surprised, he thought to himself, they all came and camped like this every year at Christmas. He just hadn't been around to enjoy it.

Johnston and Eric brought news from town and a business-like attitude. Soon the 12 adults were seated around the dining table once again to address the topics at hand.

"Grey has not yet returned from his scouting mission, darn fool," Johnston began the family meeting. "The others have returned; no particular news to report past the data flight recorder Jake knew about last night.

"With the Sheriff and three deputies dead, we need to decide whether to augment our Sheriff Department or disband it for the time being and turn the authority over to the Jericho Rangers. Ralph McVeigh is the officer in charge and Walter Jackson the training officer. They have already been making their presence known and appreciated by helping out at Town Hall. Walt Jackson was the Sheriff before he retired," Johnston reminded the out-of-towners, "so I think they will do well. Our two communications officers, Adam Montgomery and Arnold Frederickson, have been taking turns with Oliver Wilson and Mr. Hawkins manning the HAM radio. I'll tell you the details of that in a moment. Feelings about the Jericho Rangers taking over? Before you answer, I think it's only fair to say that I would ask you, Jake, to take leadership if the India squad which had been under Chuck Dawes' command."

"I'm fine with that; Heather?" Jake looked at her for approval.

Heather shrugged. "I don't guess it will be any more dangerous than what you've been doing the past three years."

"OK, thank you," Johnston continued. "Sam Adams is your second in charge and does a fine job when Chuck has been away on Sheriff business. He's also become our ordinance officer. He'll fill you in on everything you need to know.

"The HAM radio crew has been able to make contacts with our connections in both Ireland and France. They each say the same thing. As many as 23 American cities are reported to have been bombed. No one has taken responsibility. I find this odd, since that is usually the first thing that happens. The international community is horrified and searching for answers. They are scrambling to assemble aid packages since the infrastructure of the country has undoubtedly collapsed. We have pre-arranged times to speak with both Ireland and France again so we can continue to receive updates. Once we hear the news, we have been passing it along to our state-side connections in Cedar Brook, Galloway, Nebraska, Bowling Green, Kentucky, and several other towns with HAM radios. They pass the information along from there. While I don't agree with his methods, Grey Anderson was right in saying that information is what is going to keep us afloat during this time of crisis. Any questions?"

Since there were none, Johnston continued. "I had a visit from Dale Turner this morning. Apparently he went on a little scouting mission of his own last night and found the train full of Gracie's supplies about 5 miles out of town. It had hit a car that was on the tracks. He wanted me to help him with a truck to haul the groceries to Gracie's and surprise her, but I told him I thought it would be better just to bring the train into town. I radioed Jonah and asked him to take his crew out to investigate the condition of the train. He radioed me back a little while ago that they had removed the car from the tracks and were working on getting the train going again. The goal is to bring it to the old train station and unload all of the supplies there. Everything can be stored in the warehouse there and Gracie can send for what she needs. Jonah hadn't gone through all of the cars yet, but he did tell me that our order of concertina wire was on the train. We can have folks stringing that around the perimeter of the farms if they have time on their hands now that there're no internet or video games."

Emmett entered into the conversation: "I'm glad the supplies were located. I'm sure every little bit will help. I do have a question about Gracie's store. Jake mentioned the town was having a Bar-B-Q last night to use the meat that was thawing? I thought the town was on solar/wind power. Why was the meat thawing?"

"Good question," Johnston answered. "Yes, the town is on solar/wind power. Gracie has a walk-in freezer in back that takes more power than an ordinary refrigerator or lights do. It kept itself cold for a while, then the alternate system kept it going for a while longer, but we noticed the walk-in freezer was draining the batteries faster than the system taking power in. She still has the refrigerators and freezers in the store, but we decided to take the walk-in freezer off line. She stored what she could in the front and we cooked up the rest. I think it was good for the townspeople to get together for a social event. We need to remember that as we go forward.

"So, continuing on with the topic of resources. Gasoline is one of the things we will not be able to produce. We are recommending that gasoline be used as sparingly as possible. To that end, Will McCall has already been in contact with Cedar Brook and ordered another buggy and another wagon from the Amish folks from whom he ordered his last set. He will be able to take people around town as needed. Those of us with horses, and all farm animals for that matter, are encouraged to breed as quickly and as many animals as reasonably possible. The horses will be needed for transportation, the cows, goats, hogs and chickens for eggs, dairy and meat, since trips to Costco won't be happening. It's going to take a while to get used to making everything from scratch rather than getting things ready-made, but I think we will manage. The same goes for gardens. Heather, will you speak to Hope about growing vegetables in her greenhouse? People are going to have to pay for their food by barter or working for it, so factor that into your thinking." In the absence of Marion Frederickson, Gail was taking notes of the things that needed to be done while Johnston was talking.

"What would you like to do about the Greyhound bus, the gasoline and all of the supplies we brought?" Mark Norton asked. "So far, we just pulled it around back so it wouldn't be seen as readily."

"Thank you for doing that, and for bringing the gasoline and all of the supplies," Johnston said, graciously nodding to each of the out-of-towners in turn. "I'm sure the items you brought will make life easier for all of us here in Jericho. I'd rather save the gas for now, and save the supplies for a rainy day rather than allowing Gracie to sell them in her market and losing control of where they end up. For now, how about we just park the bus in the back barn and close the door. There will be plenty of room once we get out the old wagon and buggy. That's what we'll all be using to get around now."

"Have we heard anything about Bob and Sharon and Olivia? Or Brenda and Stuart McCall and their kids in Denver?" Laura Norton asked hesitantly.

"No, there has been no word about either family," Johnston answered somberly. "I fear for the worst for Brenda and Stuart since we know what happened to Denver. We really don't know exactly which cities were hit and which were spared, so I don't know what to think about Bob and Sharon. Grant and Miranda Stevens were also in New York at the time, but not with the Bradys. I guess time will tell."

The group sat quietly for a few minutes, considering various missing friends and family members. Eventually they ate their lunch and talk turned again to practical subjects. Johnston wanted to have a town meeting to disperse the information they had discussed, but he needed time to check on a few things and set up a meeting time. He also mentioned planning a memorial service for Sheriff Dawes and the deputies. The group dispersed after lunch to take care of the tasks they had been given.

By noon, the Brady family, Grant and Miranda Stevens, and Charles Pendergast had gotten their gear packed and made it down the 20 flights of stairs to the ground floor. If Grant Stevens did not think they needed the numbers of the group for protection, he would surely have abandoned the group and gone on by himself. Miranda was being relatively cooperative, concerned about getting home to Jericho and Skylar. The others had no such motivation and were insufferable. Charles had jollied them along as best he could, and had finally been able to convince the Brady women that they did not need to bring their hair driers and other electric implements just before Grant had throttled them both. Getting each member of the group into sensible shoes was another battle. Grant had eventually taken control, chosen a pair of shoes from each closet and put them on the floor, instructing the women to put them on. Bob Brady had been no help and almost as difficult as the women, wanting to bring along useless electronic items. Grant was thankful for the support of Charles as they exchanges frequent eye rolls and shakes of the head. They had finally bid Geraldine a tearful good bye, leaving her with as much cat food and alcohol as they had found, and started down the stairs.

When they reached the lobby, the Bradys wanted to stop and rest.

"But we haven't gotten anywhere yet," Grant exclaimed in frustration. "And we'll never get anywhere if we continue at this pace. I was hoping to get out of Manhattan before we needed to camp for the evening."

"But my feet hurt," Sharon fussed.

"This back pack is too heavy for me to carry," Olivia complained, glaring at Grant.

Grant had reached his limit, and they hadn't even made it out of the building. He turned to Bob. "Do you want to take your family back up the stairs to starve to death, or do you want to persuade them to soldier on?"

Bob prevaricated, caught between the strong personalities of his wife and daughter and the grim truth. "Come on, I guess we'd better keep moving," he finally said to them, walking slowly toward the front doors of their Carnegie Hill home.

Once they were outside, they walked south on 5th Avenue with other fancy homes to their left and the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir on their right. After about nine blocks and a great deal of muttered complaints, they veered to the right and went west on 85th Street, crossing through Central Park. The Bradys had lived in a home overlooking the park for many years, but they had rarely visited it, and never like this. There were few cars driving on the roads today, but many people milling around, and signs of their handiwork everywhere. Garbage was overflowing and many ground floor windows had been smashed. Their own building had been lucky to remain intact this long, they now realized. It was only a matter of time. They could hear the sounds of people shouting and glass breaking in the distance; they were thankful the mayhem was not in their general vicinity. The Bradys became less vocal once they realized that going to Jericho might be their only option in order to remain alive.

Once across Central Park, the group turned left on Central Park West and walked until the park ended and the road turned into 8th Avenue. The complaints had decreased as the members of the group struggled to keep up with Charles, who was most familiar with the area and leading the way. Grant passed out granola bars for them to eat as they walked, but didn't offer to stop. Once they left the area of the park, there were more cars on the streets and even more people. None of them seemed inclined to help, but the group was thankful the rough-looking bands were willing to leave them along. Grand was acutely aware of the fact that they were unarmed, but couldn't think of a remedy.

"It's so strange, not seeing children playing and couples taking romantic carriage rides in the park," Charles mused as they walked.

"Wait, Stop!" Grant shouted from the rear of the group, immediately stopping the group, who turned to look at him. "Carriage rides. Do you have any idea where those horses are stabled? Where the carriages are kept?"

"Why, I believe some of them are kept in the Clinton Park Stables on 52nd," Charles replied, the light coming on in his head. "I like your thinking."

Charles turned on his heels and continued down 8th Avenue in the direction they had been going at a pace that had the others hurrying to catch up. Despite questions and complaints, he hurried along for two more blocks before turning right toward the Hudson River on 53rd and continuing the rapid pace. He stopped outside a long building whose doors were locked with a padlock. He took a small hatchet from his pack and broke open the lock; removing it and sliding open the doors. The animal smell hit him as the doors slid open and he was sure they would have another battle on their hands when he and Grant went to convince the group that a horse would be their new best friend. Surprising them all, Olivia was the first to register a response.

"Oh, it smells wonderful in here! Just like when I was little and would ride horses at Grandpa's ranch. I always wanted a horse of my own, like the ranch kids had, but we lived in the city so I didn't even ask." Olivia had walked ahead of the group, into the stable and along the stalls, petting the noses of horses along the way. Her companions watched her in astonishment.

"Why, Liv, I never knew you wanted a horse," Bob Brady interjected, upset that he had denied his otherwise doted-upon daughter one of her desires and missing the impact her love of horses would have on their immediate future.

"I don't know a lot about horses," Grant commented, "but I do know they will get us to Jericho in about half of the time it would take us to walk there. Let's figure out what we need."

After much discussion, the group located the largest carriage they could find in the stable. Most were designed to hold 4 people and one driver, so they were pleased when they found one that was wide enough to hold six and the driver's seat was a bench which could seat more than one. There was a storage box on the back that would hold some of their things, and a sturdy roof that folded up over the carriage in the case of inclement weather. This larger carriage was suited to be drawn by two horses at a time, rather than one, like the rest of the carriages. Given Olivia's new found interest in the adventure, they allowed her to choose four horses; two to pull the carriage and two to carry additional supplies. They could be swapped out to keep the horses fresh.

With input from Olivia, and some from Charles, they chose tack for the horses and got them ready to go. They found an abundance of warm blankets used for carriage rides during the winter so they appropriated some of them as well. Since none of them knew how much food a horse required in a day, they took as many bags of hay pellets as they could fit on the floor of the carriage, in the packs of the horses, and in the storage box on the back of the carriage. They found a workshop where the caretakers must have fixed the tack and collected bottles of water and various snacks from a vending machine. Perhaps not the healthiest choice, but they were happy to be able to take more food items in the carriage than they had been when they were on foot. They found a bin of apples just before they left the stable – not the quality they would have bought in the grocery store a week earlier, but now appearing quite tasty. They took a bag of apples with them as well. Freshly outfitted for their trip, the group climbed into the carriage. Charles was elected to drive first, also having ad some experience with horses. He turned the carriage south on Henry Hudson Parkway and the next phase of their adventure began. The group was significantly happier with the prospect of arriving in Jericho in three months rather than the six months estimated arrival time if they had been on foot. For the first time since the bombs, Grant Stevens felt like they might actually succeed in their mission to return to Jericho and to their daughter Skylar.

Jake awakened from sleep in a cold sweat. The dreams, which had not troubled him for the past few days, were back with a vengeance. The little girl's face was all he could see in the darkness. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again anytime soon, so he slipped out of bed and padded toward the door. He glanced back at the clock: 3:00 a.m. At least he had gotten six hours of sleep. It was amazing that in less than a week without regular power, they were already reverting to the old farmer's schedule – early to bed and early to rise. Or maybe it was the babies that prompted the schedule, he mused, as he went downstairs and poured himself a bowl of cereal and milk.

"Had a bad dream, did you?" The voice in the darkness about scared Jake to death before he recognized it as Eleanor's British accent.

"Yes, how did you know?" Jake responded once he caught his breath. He took his cereal and went to the great room, sitting in the chair opposite where Eleanor was sipping tea.

"It seems that is why normal people get up in the middle of the night," she replied with a sympathetic smile.

"And you?" Jake asked, munching on his cereal.

"I'm afraid my circadian rhythm got confused during my residency. Or perhaps I was always a night person. This is the time I think best, anyway. I was just sitting here trying to make sense of things."

"Good luck with that," Jake said with a cynical laugh. "I wonder if we'll ever know why. Or if things will ever go back to normal."

"Was your dream about the bombs?" Eleanor asked gently, peering over the edge of her cup.

Jake gave her a quick look, surprised that she would ask, and then remembered that she was a psychologist by training. It was in her nature to ask that type of question. "No, something that happened in Iraq," Jake answered, debating whether to tell her the story. He was inclined to keep things on a need-to-know basis, and she had no need to know. On the other hand, perhaps he would feel better if he talked about it.

"There was a little girl," he started, still unsure how much he wanted to tell her. Eleanor was a civilian, after all. He finally decided to continue. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My group was ambushed and the little girl got caught in the crossfire. I see her face everywhere; her eyes look at me, asking why. It's bad enough when I'm awake, but so much worse in my dreams. Sometimes it's Heather that dies in the crossfire. Sometimes it's one of the twins. And it's always my fault."

"Oh, Jake, I'm sorry." Eleanor said, sincerely dismayed by his story. She deliberated a moment before she went on. "Her death was an accident." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, yes," Jake responded, "but she is still dead. I killed someone's daughter; someone's little girl."

"You were ambushed. You didn't set out to kill anyone, right?" She persisted.

"Well, yes," Jake repeated.

"What would you do differently, if you had it to do again?" She asked, leaning forward intently.

"I guess I wouldn't have been there at all." Jake answered glumly.

"But it was your job to be there, right? What did you accomplish by doing your job?" Eleanor persisted.

"We took down a weapons smuggling operation." Jake replied.

"Alright. You had an important job to do, and you did it. Now, who is the smartest soldier, the best soldier you have ever known?" Eleanor continued.

Jake thought a moment before he answered. "My Father, I suppose."

"Alright, what do you suppose your Father would have done differently, had he been in your shoes during that ambush?" Eleanor asked.

"Well, I don't think he could have done anything differently. It all happened too quickly, and then it was over. It was too late to help her, and I was hit, and we just had to get out of there before someone else died." Jake concluded, seeing where Eleanor was going.

"And there you have it," she said. "You have said you would do the same thing yourself, given the same set of circumstances. The smartest soldier you know would have done the same thing as well." She paused. "Are you a praying man, Jake?

"I pray from time to time," Jake replied. "More often lately," he said, as he indicated the current situation.

"I would advise you to ask God's forgiveness, and then to forgive yourself, Jake. You are not a murderer. You are a man who was sent to a war-torn country to do a job. In the course of your job, a bad thing happened. We can agree that it is very sad. It is also very sad that thousands of people probably died as a result of these bombs. Let's not allow any more people to die because we are thinking about other things. Your family needs you, Jake. The town needs you. I heard about the little girl on the bus. I'm sure there will be others that need you to save them before this is over. Make your peace, Jake."

"You're right, thank you, Eleanor." Jake replied, relieved to be seeing things from a different perspective. "I'll talk with Heather, too. I'm sure that will help." He rose to go back up to bed.

"I'm sure that it will," Eleanor replied. "Good night, Jake."

Heather had awakened at 4am when the twins had begun to fuss for their feeding. She had not been surprised to find Jake's side of the bed empty. She has been worried about him since he had returned home from Iraq. Something had been off, and he didn't seem to want to discuss it. Part of her was hurt, because she felt like they always discussed everything. At least _she_ discussed everything with _him_, she thought wryly, since every thought she had showed right up on her face as though someone had written it on her forehead with a marker.

Heather fed the babies and pondered Jake and whatever the issue might be. The air was chilly. She made a mental note to ask someone to bring firewood up to their room so they could have a small fire in the fireplace each night. The twins shouldn't be in the cool air, and a fire would keep everyone in the house warmer. She finished and was returning to bed when she heard the bedroom door open softly and saw Jake come in.

"Can we talk?" He asked.

"Of course," she responded. As tired as she always was these days, it was far more important that she be there for her husband than get a little extra sleep.

They crawled under the warm covers and Jake told Heather everything. The events of Safa, the ensuing nightmares, and the conversation he had had earlier with Eleanor. Heather granted him absolution. They curled up in bed and went back to sleep as the sky started to become light. Jake remained soundly asleep when Heather got up to feed the babies at 6am; she hadn't seen him sleep this soundly since he'd been back. Both he and Chip were gone from the room when she was awakened for the 8am feeding.

Once Heather had fed and changed the babies, she carried them downstairs with her. She found Eleanor making breakfast with Chip supervising from his high chair. Eleanor was playing peek-a-boo with him from behind the lid of the frying pan.

"Thank you for helping. You're very good with him," Heather said gratefully. "No children of your own?" Heather felt like they had become friends, but felt that maybe she had asked too personal a question the moment she spoke.

"I always thought I would," Eleanor responded with a regretful laugh, "but my lady parts were giving me trouble and had to be removed just before I met Emmett. So I'll have to leave the baby-making to you and Hope, and ask to play with your children from time to time."

"Fair enough," Heather said with a sympathetic smile and a pat of Eleanor's arm as she entered the kitchen to help after stowing the babies in their downstairs bassinet.

"Where is everyone?" Heather asked.

"E.J. is still asleep," Eleanor said as she began the litany of all of the occupants of the house. "I believe the Duncan kids are still asleep as well as I haven't seen any of them yet. Dennis left early in the buggy with Jake, Emmett, Mark and Laura. Jake said he would only be a few hours; he needed to meet with Sam Adams about the Ranger squad. Laura planned to check in at the Medical Center to volunteer for clinic shifts as a nurse practitioner. I believe Emmett and Mark were going to find Johnston to see where they could be of service. Dennis just wanted to see some different scenery, so he asked if I would keep an eye on the kids while he tagged along on the trip. Any other questions?" She asked Heather with a smile as she caught her breath.

"No, I think that will do it," Heather responded with a laugh as they sat down together for breakfast. "I do want to thank you for speaking with Jake last night. He came upstairs and we had a long talk. I think he feels better now. I know I feel better knowing what was bothering him!"

"Think nothing of it," Eleanor replied. "I imaging there will be others in town with concerns since the bombs. I asked Laura to investigate. I will be happy to hold clinic hours a day or two a week if folks want to make appointments. Or be available if the emergency room needs a psych consult. I don't know if Jericho has anyone in that capacity?"

"Not that I know of," Heather said. "Thank you for volunteering."

The two enjoyed a companionable breakfast and were soon joined by E.J. and the Duncan kids. They were lingering over their coffee when the Bennett family arrived in a horse-drawn buggy. Gil dropped off Hope and their two children so they could visit with Heather while he made some farm calls.

Hope had been busy getting her summer garden harvested and cover crops planted so they had not seen much of each other recently. Now, Hope was laid up with a hairline fracture of her tibia courtesy of the bus accident, and had a bulky walking boot in place. It was all she could do to keep up with 3 year old Hunter and 16 month old Piper.

Heather passed along the message to Hope about growing vegetables for the town and enlisting help courtesy of the barter system. Hope agreed and told them of her recent work on propagating coffee beans. They were usually grown in the tropics, but could be grown in the greenhouse and made good houseplants. Each plant would produce 3-4 pounds of beans per year. Not enough for unlimited use, but certainly better than nothing. She had also been working on growing _Camellia sinensis_, the plant from which tea was made.

"I imagine they will be useful for trade with other towns, as well," Hope added thoughtfully.

"I think you'd have a fight on your hands if you try to trade away coffee," Heather said with a giggle.

"I'll pay top dollar for the tea," Eleanor put in. "I was wondering what I was going to do when my stash ran out. I guess I've found my new best friend."

"No worries," Hope said, "I'll plant as many more as I'm able. Good thing I insisted upon a large greenhouse! We'll need some space for vegetables, too. "

Dennis Duncan had to admit to experiencing a bit of cabin fever, and was happy for an excuse to get out of the house. He had only visited Jericho a few times over the years and felt like something of an outsider. The others were trying to make him feel welcome, but it would take some time. As they made the trip to town, he listened to the others talking. Jake mentioned meeting up with Sam Adams at Bailey's.

At the mention of the name Bailey, Dennis was transported back in time. He and Karen had only been married a few years and he was teaching an intro to engineering class for freshmen. He'd had a particularly promising student who would stay after class and discuss her ideas with him. If she hadn't been his student, if he hadn't been married, things might have progressed between them in a romantic manner. The chemistry was definitely there. As it was, she had come to him tearfully the week before Christmas saying that her father had died unexpectedly and she was needed at home to take over the family business. He was saddened to see a bright young mind being denied an education and sad to know that her friendly face would no longer be sitting in his classes and staying afterward for lively discussions. He bid her good-bye and never heard about her again. Neither had he heard the name Bailey mentioned in the past 15 or so years it had been.

When the group arrived in town, they dropped Laura Norton at the Medical Center, arranging to collect her a few hours later. They proceeded down Main Street toward the center of town. Jake tied the horse behind Town Hall and made sure it had water to drink. They walked through Town Hall, leaving Emmett and Mark Norton in Johnston's office as Jake and Dennis went out the front door and across the street toward Bailey's. Dennis had managed to put the idea of his former student out of his thoughts, deciding the chance of them being related was next to zero.

Jake proceeded to a back booth at Bailey's where Sam Adams was already seated. Dennis went along for the lack of a better place to be. Dennis had no military or weapons experience, so was reluctant to volunteer for the Jericho Rangers, especially since they had spent years training together and even competing against each other in various events. He had no idea what he could do to contribute; the need for engineering instruction did not seem high on the list of survival skills. Dennis' thoughts wandered as Jake and Sam discussed logistics and personnel, strengths and weaknesses. Soon, the bar-maid came around taking orders. Dennis sat speechless as he looked into the eyes of Mary Bailey, his former student.

"Dr. Duncan," Mary murmured in astonishment, "What are you doing here in Jericho?" She had never forgotten the patient engineering professor who had been willing to listen to her wild ideas, and who had extended his sympathy when her father Patrick had died of a massive heart attack at the age of 45. Mary's mother Bernadette was distraught and had insisted she come home from school immediately to help run the family tavern. Mary was an only child and close to her parents, so she came home without thinking twice. Her mother had died of cancer just nine years later and left Mary sole proprietor of Bailey's Tavern, which she had been operating ever since. Leaving Dr. Duncan was her only regret, having had a school-girl's crush on the handsome young professor. And now he was seated in front of her.

"My sister lives here," Dennis managed to stammer. "I brought my family here after the bombs."

He has a family, Mary thought, kicking herself mentally for the brief wave of romantic nostalgia she'd had when she saw him. She had heard he was married when he was her teacher, but they had never discussed private matters. Of course he has a family, she thought, he hasn't been sitting around for over 15 years waiting for you to come back to school.

"It's so nice to see you again," Mary finally managed to say, once she had collected her thoughts a bit. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Coffee, please," Dennis said, looking at the others, who nodded in agreement. Mary nodded and turned away to get their order, leaving Dennis shaking his head in amazement. His few visits to Jericho had consisted solely of time spent with Gail and her family. He wasn't even sure if he had ever driven through the town of Jericho proper. No wonder he had never made the connection. He imagined Mary was married by now with children of her own. When he returned with three cups and a pot of coffee, they both managed to be polite and formal in their interaction.

Jake was pleased with his meeting. Sam Adams, a descendant of the founding father by the same name, belonged to another of Jericho's early families. Sam had served as an ordinance sergeant during the Korean War and was a firm believer in his Second Amendment rights. He had a significant personal firearms collection and a vast working knowledge of those and many more. He was in great shape for his 70+ years and Jake was gratified to learn that his newly acquired squadron had taken first place in many of the past competitions between Jericho Ranger squadrons. It didn't hurt that his wife Joyce owned the local bakery and supplied the squadron with goodies whenever they were on call.

Jake had hoped to visit Rob Hawkins during his trip to town, but a look at the clock made him realize they needed to pick up his Aunt Laura and head for home.

The next adventure of the group in New York began just blocks after they had gotten settled in their carriage. A young man with a bandana across his face stepped out from a storefront holding a shotgun and demanded they stop and step out of the carriage. Charles knew they had no weapons with which to defend themselves, so he turned to diplomacy.

"Let's talk about this for a minute, son," Charles opened the conversation.

"There's nothing to talk about," The man replied. "You have a carriage; I need to get my family out of the city. Please get out of the carriage now."

Charles got out of the carriage, but motioned the others to stay put. "My name is Charles, what is your name?" he asked, trying to establish a rapport.

"This isn't going to work," the man insisted. "My boys have you covered. Just give us the carriage and no one will get hurt."

"Maybe we can help each other," Charles continued in a conversational tone. "I can help you get a carriage and horses of your own. How would that be?"

"What would you want in return?" The man asked skeptically.

"How about you put the shotgun down, for starters?" Charles answered; feeling like his diplomatic approach was working.

The young man considered for a moment, then shook his head and took fresh aim with his shotgun. "How about you just get out of the carriage," he reiterated. "Like I said, my boys have you covered."

At that moment a child of about six ran out of the storefront and wrapped his arms around the man shouting "Daddy!"

The man raised the barrel of the shotgun over his shoulder and shook his head as an older boy ran out of the storefront shouting "Caleb, come back here!"

"Are those your 'boys'?" Charles asked the man gently. The man nodded, his attitude one of defeat. "Let us help you," Charles insisted. "What's your name, son?"

"My name is Toby. Why would you want to help me? I just held you at gunpoint."

By this point, Grant Stevens had jumped down from the carriage. "Toby, I see you work at a pawn shop?"

"Yes, it's our family business. My Father owns it. He's inside," Toby replied.

"Why don't the two of you walk back and get another carriage," Grant said to Charles as he headed into the shop.

The shop was dim with no electricity. Grant found a group huddled toward the back trying to keep sis year old Caleb in check.

"I'm Grant Stevens," he began. "I understand from Toby that you're trying to get out of the city? Where are you headed?"

"I'm Conrad Schmidt," a middle-aged man stepped forward and extended his hand. "These are my daughter-in-law Kate and my grandsons Josh and Caleb," he said, indicating the other members of his group. "We hope to go to Ohio where my cousin has a farm. I think it will be safer than being here in the city."

"I think you're right," Grant nodded agreeably. "We're from Kansas and headed back there. My wife and I live there, and our friends have relatives there. Perhaps we could travel as far as Ohio together? I believe there is safety in numbers, especially with the shotgun your son was waving around out there."

Conrad Schmidt shook his head in disapproval. "That shotgun idea was his, not mine. We don't even have ammo for it."

"You mean he was holding us with an unloaded gun?" Grant asked, incredulous.

"Well, yes. I'm sorry," Conrad said remorsefully, hoping this fact did not negate their chance of riding to Ohio in a carriage.

"No harm done," Grand said with a laugh. "It's brilliant, actually. I thought owning firearms was illegal in New York?"

"Well, of course it is, but that doesn't stop the criminal type from having them, now does it?" Conrad answered sarcastically. "Would you like to see the rest of the collection we've taken in over the years?"

"Yes, please," Grant said as Conrad led him into a back room and opened a gun safe which contained a variety of firearms; no ammo for any of them. They chose several pieces to bring with them on the trip for protection.

Soon Charles and Toby returned with not one, but two carriages and a total of four more horses. One carriage was loaded with hay pellets, apples and carriage robes. Once the firearms had been chosen, Grant had encouraged Conrad and his family to gather their belongings. It didn't take long for the Schmidt family and their belongings to get settled in one of the new carriages and the expanded group set out once again with Grant wondering how many more join their caravan before they reached Jericho.

**Author's Post Script: **Well,this chapter grew into much more of a monster than I had anticipated! More and more plot kept coming up and they all needed introduced before the events of the next episode. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS version of Jericho. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's Note:** Again, this chapter got a lot longer than I had anticipated it would be, and it could have continued! Instead, the following chapter will be another of bonus content. Thank you for the reviews! Each one is greatly appreciated!

**Chapter VIII: The Walls of Jericho**

**September 24, 2006**

**Bombs + 4 Days**

Jake and Dennis gathered the others and returned to the Medical Center only to discover that they were short-staffed and Laura had volunteered to stay and help. Jake said he would return for her later and took the others home. He had the growing feeling that his life in the new post-apocalyptic world would consist of providing taxi-service via horse-drawn carriage. Not that that was the worst thing he could imagine doing with his time, he mused.

They made it back to Green Ranch in time for a late lunch and a brief nap before Jake had to start the trip back to town. It was a 6 mile drive – accomplished in a matter of minutes in a vehicle, but requiring an hour each direction now, since horses only traveled about 6 miles per hour while pulling a buggy. Jake made a mental note to institute a firm one-trip-to-town per day policy in the future. Two hours in a buggy was about his limit. Four hours was insanity.

When he reached the Medical Center and tied the horse out front, he went in through the front doors expecting to find the lobby quiet and Laura waiting for him. Instead, people were bustling around murmuring worriedly about radiation sickness. Apparently the Golf Squadron of the Jericho Rangers had been on duty. Shep Cale and Stanley had stopped a truck at Checkpoint #3 on Oak Street near the Salt Mine. The man in the car was trying to get to town, and was in pretty bad shape. They brought him to the Medical Center for evaluation. April and Laura were looking him over as Jake peered over the heads of the gathered staff.

Jake guessed Johnston and Gail had been notified of the man's arrival in town since they walked into the Medical Center just behind Jake and made their way to the man's bedside as April hooked the man up to the cardiac monitor and Laura applied an oxygen mask.

"Who is this man? Does anyone recognize him?" Johnston asked.

"Not so far," Eric answered, having materialized next to April. Perhaps he had come to take her home, Jake reasoned.

"Those burns. Does that mean that he was close to the blast?" Gail asked the question they all were thinking.

"Why'd he come to Jericho? It's a hell of a long way from Denver." Eric replied. No one knew any real answers.

"Maybe he's related to someone in town," Stanley reasoned.

The crowd began to disperse and Jake stepped forward into the room. He pulled on some exam gloves and started checking the man's pants pockets.

"Any ID?" Johnston asked.

"No. Just some keys, he doesn't even have a wallet." Jake replied. "We should check his vehicle."

"Is he going to be okay?" Eric asked.

"Depends on the dose that he got," April replied as she continued her assessment.

"Shep, you and Stanley should go wash up. Those clothes might still be contaminated." Gail advised. Shep had been standing in the background silently watching the scene unfold.

"There's a shower down the hall." April said absently. "I think that's all we can do for him tonight," she said, indicating that she was referring to the patient. "I should probably sleep here tonight, in case he needs something," she said apologetically to Eric. "If he becomes any more short of breath, I will need to intubate him and put him on a ventilator."

They followed Shep and Stanley out of the room. April went down the hall toward the nurse's station. Eric stopped Johnston to talk.

"Dad. We've got another situation. There's a finite supply of gas in the generator here. The ventilator won't run on solar and wind power, it requires the generator. Plus, there is only one ventilator in town, if this guy needs to be intubated. April said they never have intubated patients here for any length of time – they are always airlifted out to Rogue River. The baby was born earlier today, premature, and they had nowhere to send her. She would have died if April hadn't intubated her. April wasn't even sure if they could get the settings to work for a premature baby, since a different type of ventilator is used for babies."

Johnston was racked with a coughing spasm.

"You okay?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," Johnston said with a pause while he thought a moment. "Leave the gasoline problem to me. I think I may have a solution."

"What if more people come?" Eric asked apprehensively. "There's not enough gas to keep the clinic going indefinitely for everyone."

Are you saying we ought to turn people away?" Johnston asked him.

"No," Eric answered thoughtfully, "I'm saying we have limited resources. I think we should make sure we have enough resources for our own people. I know we prepared for this kind of situation, but one day we will run out of supplies. I think we should use what we have wisely."

"Well for right now let's just worry about gas for the generator and keeping these patients safe, alright?" Johnston asked.

April returned to where the group was gathered. "Some of the nurses are spooked. They're worried about contamination. I told them I didn't think they needed to worry, but I guess we don't know for sure."

"Honey, I'll do anything I can to help you," Gail said to her. "Would you like me to stay here with you tonight?"

"Yes, please," April said thankfully. "If you could, please keep an eye on our mystery guest. Then I can see to the other patients."

"Sure," Gail said, returning to the room and starting to take another set of vital signs.

"And hope to God the power doesn't go out," April called after her.

"Look, we'll do everything we can, until we can't," Gail said reassuringly as she sat down to chart. The others left her to her patient, thinking they would head home.

Before Johnston got to the front door, he was met by Jimmy and Bill, the remaining deputy staff. He'd been trying since yesterday afternoon to track these two down and tell them about the decision to disband the deputy office for the time being and rely upon the Jericho Rangers to keep the peace.

"Any word from Gray?" Johnston asked them.

"No, Mayor, we still can't get him on the radio," Jimmy replied.

"Maybe they got captured by those tanks Stanley saw," Bill was quick to put in.

"Those tanks are probably just national guard," Jimmy bickered with him.

"You don't know that. They could be. . ." Bill bickered back.

"Shh!" Johnston quieted them as the family member of a patient walked past.

"They could be China," Bill continued in a whisper. "They could be Iran, Al Qaeda, North Korea, anybody who hates us. They could be coming here. And what's our line of defense? You're looking at it."

"I've been trying to speak with you about that," Johnston said, reclaiming control of the conversation. "We have decided to have the Jericho Rangers keep the peace until this calamity has passed and we can elect a new Sheriff. You both are on Ranger squadrons, right? You can assist whenever you have free time, but as of now, Ralph McVeigh and Walt Jackson are in charge. You only have duty for one 24 hour shift every 10 days. Understood?"

"Thank you, Mayor. That sounds good," Jimmy replied, looking visibly relieved.

Bill looked hesitant, but mumbled in agreement. Johnston left to go home and Jake started looking for Laura so they could head for home as well. Again, there was a commotion outside the room of the man Stanley had brought in. Jake went to stand with Bonnie, who was waiting for Stanley to return from the shower.

"Bonnie," Jake said as he touched her arm.

"This... could be my brother," she replied. "Is this how they die?"

"Stanley didn't get it this bad," Jake reassured her as soon as he was sure she was looking in his direction.

"He could still get cancer," Bonnie insisted, fear in her voice.

"We don't know that," Jake said, still trying to reassure her.

"Don't worry about me," Stanley said and signed, walking up beside them. "I'll be fine."

"Take care of him," Bonnie said to Jake as she walked away with Stanley.

Jake was unsure if she meant he was to take care of Stanley or the man in the bed.

At that moment, April completed her assessment of the man in the bed and announced

"I'm going to have to intubate him and put him on the ventilator. It'll use up power, but he's not breathing well enough on his own."

"But the baby has the better chance for survival," Eric interjected. "Save the ventilator for the baby."

"Hey, hey, hey, what about him?" Jake asked Eric.

"Give him something for the pain," Eric insisted. "Get him comfortable."

"Sit back and watch him die?" Jake asked, incredulous. It hadn't even been a week since the bombs and their humanity was already dwindling.

"Well I don't like it Jake," Eric replied, "but it's the most rational option we have right now. Unless you can think of something better?"

Jake and April looked at each other for a moment. "Use the ventilator for him and bag the baby?" Jake asked. April nodded. "We'll locate more gas tomorrow for the generator." Jake reassured Eric.

As April went to intubate him, the man awakened, gasping for breath. He pulled aside his oxygen mask.

"Can you tell me your name?" April asked.

"V-v-v-victor Miller," the man struggled to reply.

"Victor. Victor, you're in a medical clinic," Jake reassured him. "Okay, we're going to take care of you."

"N-no. There coming," Victor replied in agitation. "They-they're coming." With that effort, his oxygen saturation dropped and he lost consciousness once again. April proceeded to intubate him and Gail stood watch as the others went home for the night.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooo

It was well past midnight by the time Jake and Laura reached the ranch. They had a chance to talk on the trip home and Jake was reminded of why he liked this no-nonsense aunt so much. She had gone into town planning to sign up for future shifts, but had seen the chaos of the clinic and changed into scrubs, proceeding to work a 12-hour shift. Many staff members were still trying to settle their own families after the bombs and subsequent fallout rainstorm. Several had developed respiratory symptoms after being closed up the basement during the storm. The clinic was flooded with people seeking reassurance that each miniscule symptom wasn't cause for concern in this new post-apocalyptic world. Since she was used to the students at the UK, she was very good at reassuring them and sending them on their way. She regaled Jake with funny stories on the long ride home. She further assured Jake that she could drive herself in the carriage for her regular Monday, Wednesday and Friday shifts in the future.

"So, what will we do about gas for the generator?" She queried Jake.

Jake shook his head. "The hospital has a large gas tank that is nearly full. Eric was right, we don't have an unlimited supply, but we did not need to panic about that tonight. We have plenty of ambu bags to ventilate patients by hand, and plenty of hands to take turns with all of the EMTs that were trained years ago. I think it's just a matter of allocating resources. We probably need more volunteers at the clinic at any given time. And less hypochondriacs, by the sounds of it," he concluded with a laugh.

"Although Eric was right on one count. We should probably have the next supply of fuel ready and waiting at the clinic. I think Dad was planning to use the gas from the Greyhound bus, but there has to be a better solution."

They had arrived home and Jake let Laura out at the door of the ranch house while he went to care for the horse.

Heather was just finishing feeding the girls by the time Jake got cleaned up and entered their room. He gave Heather the updates from town, including the need for more gasoline at the clinic due to having two ventilated patients.

"Hmm," Heather said thoughtfully as she mulled over the new dilemma. "If we had a length of hose and a funnel we could siphon gas out of our cars. And then there's all that gas inside the tanks at Murthy's Gas Station. If we could get enough suction, we could get all the gas we wanted for the clinic."

"Would a water pump do it?" Jake asked her, pleased that they wouldn't need to resort to the gas in the bus so soon.

"I think so," Heather said with a gleam in her eye.

"How do you feel about a field trip in the morning, Mrs. Green," Jake asked her.

"How long were you gone today?" Heather asked him sarcastically. "Doesn't it take an hour each way for a trip to town? I can't be gone from the babies for that long. Otherwise, I'd love a field trip."

"Let's throw caution to the wind and drive the car," Jake said with a laugh. "I know where we can get a few extra gallons of gas."

They laughed together at their scheme. Jake used the radio to call Stanley, who would be back on Ranger duty, asking him to meet them at the gas station when he got off in the morning and advising him to bring a 500 gallon pesticide container.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooo

The group from New York had spent their first night of travel in a little community park. The horses had been able to eat the grass, which obviously hadn't been mowed for more than a week. The Schmidt children found fountain with fish swimming in it and Toby had been quick to pop open a can of soda, fashioning a fish hook from the pop-top. Toby and the kids caught fish to go with their vending machine crackers and a couple of cans of carrots for dinner. They cooked the fish over an open fire in the foil wrappers that had been discarded from other vending machine faire earlier in the trip.

Rather than setting up the two small tents they had brought with them, they slept in the carriages. The Schmidt family squeezed into one carriage, with adults sleeping on the bench seats and the kids sleeping on top of their belongings which were stacked on the floor. Conrad and Toby would take turns being on watch duty. The Brady family used the larger carriage. The third was used by Charles and the Stevens, with Grant and Charles also taking turns being on watch. It was altogether a miserable experience, and they vowed to come up with a better plan for the rest of the trip.

Conrad had quickly become the navigator of the group, having driven a taxi in the suburbs many years earlier. He recommended they take a slight detour to a sporting goods store with which he was familiar in order to procure ammo for their otherwise useless weapons. They had already had several close calls with other travelers who had showed a little too much interest in their carriages. He felt their luck with waving empty guns around would only last so long as society continued to deteriorate.

They arrived at the sporting goods store late on Sunday afternoon. From the front, it appeared to be intact. The caravan of carriages went around back at Conrad's signal. Charles was reaching for his small hatchet to break the door knob when Toby pulled a slim lock pick set from his back pocket and, in no time, had the door open. The group was both amazed and horrified by this skill.

Toby and Charles went in first to clear the building, armed with flashlights and empty firearms. Kate had requested a bathroom as they entered, so they looked for one once they were sure they were the only ones in the building. One corner of the large store was taken up by a floor-to-ceiling rock climbing wall. A bit of searching revealed a small locker-room off to one side for the folks who came to work out. They had only been on the road 24 hours, but were already desperate for showers.

Toby returned to the others and told them the good news. Everyone tumbled out of the carriages and into the store, anxious for a real bathroom and perhaps a shower. Charles, Grant and Conrad conferred, and decided to make their camp in the store that night, allowing themselves a chance to regroup and re-pack the carriages more efficiently.

While the ladies happily took turn in the tepid shower, the others went shopping. They found family-sized tents that were better suited to the group than the two small ones they had brought with them. They also traded in their very small one burner stove for a traditional camp stove and stocked up on propane to fuel it. The air was now growing crisp as the calendar turned to autumn. Fortunately, the store had already stocked their cold-weather line of clothing. The men chose layers of long underwear and cargo pants with plenty of pockets to hold the most important items in case they needed to flee their camp in a hurry. They found heavy jackets and sturdy boots that were far superior to anything they had had in their closets back home.

When the ladies emerged from the locker-room, clad in the clothing provide by the men, the last traces of hair spray and make-up were washed away. Kate had helped the others either braid or pull their hair back in a practical manner. They looked remarkably fit and capable in their cargo pants and long-sleeved T-shirts. There were whistles and cat calls as the men teased their wives about their new images. The ladies, embarrassed at first, soon realized that it was mildly liberating not to have to worry about one's hair and make-up.

While the men and boys showered, Kate went in search of dinner. She was looking at a large display of freeze-dried food when the others joined her.

"Do you remember when we were Girl Scouts?" Miranda asked Sharon. "Annie McCall taught us how to cook things in a Dutch oven."

"Yes," Sharon replied. "That was a long time ago. I think she used charcoal briquettes to bake cakes and things?"

"Here's a cookbook for Dutch ovens," Kate held up a thin paperback pamphlet. She had already chosen one with instructions on making soups and stews and several others. She took a pencil out of her bag and started writing.

"What are you doing," Sharon asked, still not trusting the newcomer to the group.

"I'm making a grocery list," Kate said cheerfully, aware of her persona non grata status with the other women of the group. She was willing to do whatever it took to get her family, her children, to safety. Even if it meant making nice with a couple of spoiled socialites. "We're bound to make it to a grocery store one of these days. I want to be ready."

The group put their tents up inside the store that night for practice. Kate made soup from freeze dried camping food and canned vegetables. It may not have been of the gourmet quality the Bradys were used to, but it was considerably better than dinner the previous evening. Closer inspection of the strip mall revealed a shooting range next to the sporting goods store, so they appropriated lanterns and took turns at target practice until each of them was at least passingly comfortable with a weapon. Spending time together in the store had increased their sense of camaraderie. Grant felt it had been a wise use of their time.

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Jake and Heather left the ranch house as soon as she had finished the 8am feeding. As they drove through town, they saw Johnston speaking with Bill and Jimmy in front of Town Hall, so they stopped and Jake rolled down his window.

"So how long do you think he'll be unconscious?" Jimmy was asking Johnston, obviously referring to Victor Miller.

"Could be a long time," Johnston replied, "if he ever wakes up again."

"Who are _they_?" Bill asked. "Who's coming?"

"Maybe he saw passengers from one of those planes," Jimmy conjectured.

"He could've meant terrorists," Bill continued, always looking for the worst case scenario. "Unless he wakes up, we don't know what kind of danger we're in."

Johnston rolled his eyes, having had his fill of their antics. "For right now, support the Jericho Rangers as best you can. Use them to help you get gas. Clinic's running low."

"I wanted to speak with you about that, Dad," Jake broke in as Bill and Jimmy ambled away. "Heather thinks we can siphon the gas from the underground tank at Murthy's. We should also take an inventory of all of the gas in town so we know what we have to work with."

"Good idea," Johnston replied. "I also want to know why we blew through the whole tank of gas in less than 5 days at the clinic. I thought we got the larger tank so that wouldn't happen? Would you look into that for me, Son?"

"Sure, Dad," Jake said. "We'll keep you posted."

"And another thing," Johnston continued. "It has come to my attention that our neighbors Jim and Judy Moore were in Philadelphia visiting their grandchildren when the bombs went off. Jim was the leader of the Delta Squadron. That new man, Mr. Hawkins is it? I hear he was a police officer in St. Louis? You seem to know him. Do you think we should consider him to take over Delta until Jim makes it back? He was very helpful the other day before the storm."

"Yes, I think he's do just fine leading Delta Squadron," Jake replied thoughtfully. He waved as he and Heather drove toward the gas station.

"But it's not my gas," Mr. Murthy argued once Jake had explained the situation. "It belongs to Norco."

"It's no use to anyone, Mr. Murthy, without electricity. The pumps don't even work," Jake patiently informed the man.

"We'll leave you an IOU for the 500 gallons," Heather chimed in helpfully.

"I could be fired," Mr. Murthy continued to dissent.

"With all due respect, who's going to fire you?" Jake said gently as Mr. Murthy handed him the keys. "It's a different world now, Mr. Murthy."

"Okay let's get em' open," Jake said to Heather as he stooped to unlock the gas storage tank. "Stanley will be here any second."

"They're never coming back... The district manager… Any of them, are they?" Mr. Murthy asked rhetorically.

"No..." Jake said absently as he worked.

Stanley arrived moments later. "I couldn't find an empty pesticide container; I thought this water tank might do."

"No, no," Heather said in alarm. "We can't use steel, there's too much risk of static. One spark, the whole thing could blow sky high."

"We don't have time to look for something else," Jake said.

"Well, who's going to fill it?" Heather asked, eying her husband with an unspoken threat that indicated he shouldn't volunteer.

"Well what do you wanna do? Draw straws?" Stanley asked, oblivious to the glare Heather was giving him.

"No, I'll do it," Jake said, being sure not to look at Heather. "You've got Bonnie to take care of."

"No, don't be a martyr," Stanley responded. "You've got Heather and three kids. I've already been radiated. I'm doomed."

"No. We're going to live to be 100, remember?" Jake said stubbornly.

"Our pacts never work out," Stanley countered.

"Let's just do this, before we think about it too much," Heather interrupted, aware that the two men could argue all day.

"Get off the truck Jake! Get off the truck! Back up, I've got this," Stanley shouted at his friend.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooo

At the Medical Center, the lights flickered as the generator ran out of gas.

"Oh God!" Gail exclaimed. "The generators down! Somebody call April! Hurry!"

"We've lost all of his machines," Gail explained to April when she arrived. "He's not breathing."

"Okay," April said patiently, aware that Gail had not worked in the hospital for a number of years. "I've got to get to the baby. There's an ambu bag on the wall. You used to be a nurse Gail, you'll do fine."

April went across the hall and bagged the baby, instructing the mother as she did so. "Keep a steady pace," she said as she handed off the job to the baby's mother and went on to reassure other patients.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooo

Jake, Heather and Stanley had completed the short trip down Main Street from Murthy's Gas Station to the side of the clinic where they could siphon the gas from the water tank into the generator. They all got out of the truck. Jake started unrolling a length of garden hose while Heather gingerly climbed up into the bed of the truck to open the cap of the tank.

"Um... guys," Heather said in a worried tone, "We have a problem. It's stuck."

Stanley climbed up into the trunk bed, reaching for the cap.

"No, no, no! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!" Heather shouted excitedly, trying to pull him out of the truck.

"Don't feel bad," Stanley interrupted her. "I'll loosen it up for you."

"No," Heather repeated. "The gas has been sloshing around in there, building up fumes. If you force the cap, and it sparks . . ."

"What do we do, huh?" Jake interrupted her.

"With all the static electricity in there, we could blow the thing to kingdom come." Heather continued her safety lecture. While she spoke, Stanley pushed the cap off the tank with a crowbar. It rolled to a stop near their feet.

"That was dumb," Stanley said, realizing what he had done.

"Alright here, get that to him. Let's go!" Jake said, deciding to continue with the plan since they had not, in fact, been blown to kingdom come. He held the second end of the hose in the primary fuel tank of the generator while Heather started the siphon going with the hand pump. The fuel gage slowly started to rise from "empty" and make its way toward "full".

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooo  
Inside the clinic, Gail was still at the bedside of Victor Miller. Once the generator's fuel gage had begun to climb, Jake had switched it to the "on" position and come it to the hospital. The lights and machines were blinking back to life on as he reached his mother.

"How's he doing?" Jake asked, nodding toward the still unconscious Victor Miller.

"About the same," Gail replied, clearly worn out from her all-night vigil and stint at bagging the intubated patient. April bustled into the room turning on the vent and relieving Gail of the ambu bag.

"I need help with the cardiac monitor," April said to Jake. "See the black switch? I need you to turn that on. He's restless. He'll probably be waking up soon." Once she was convinced that Victor was settled, April left the room to see about her other patients.

"Do you need a ride home, Mom?" Jake asked Gail. "Heather can take you home on her way back to the ranch. I'll watch him for a while."

"Thank you, Jake. How will you get home?" Gail asked tiredly.

"I have a few things to do here in town today," Jake responded. "I'll have one of the Rangers take me home later. Heather is waiting out front."

Gail gave him a hug and went to find Heather. Jake settled in to watch his patient. It wasn't long before Victor started to grow more restless.

"Victor! Victor! It's okay," Jake tried to reassure the man. "April! April!" Victor began pulling at the endotracheal tube until he succeeded in pulling it out. Jake looked around, but no one was coming to help.

"Victor, you said they're coming. Who's coming?" Jake asked insistently, determined to make good use of the time he had.

"Th... They... they need help," Victor gasped.

"Who does? Who needs help?" Jake asked.

"Plane... from Denver," Victor replied.

"Where are they? Huh? Where are they?" Jake asked.

"L...L...L...Lake," Victor answered with a great deal of effort.

"A lake?" Jake asked.

"Boat... boat...boat dock," Victor gasped.

"A lake with a boat dock... Lake with a boat dock. What road was it on? Do you remember?" Jake continued to question the man.

"They.. They... They have my daughter," Victor said

"APRIL!" Jake shouted, as she ran into the room and reapplied the oxygen mask they had discarded previously.

Jimmy and Bill had been sent out earlier to investigate the truck Victor Miller had driven to Jericho. They found his I.D. and realized he had been driving Grey Anderson's truck. They radioed Eric to meet them at the clinic. Rob Hawkins was standing next to Eric at Town Hall when the message came through, so he tagged along with Eric.

"April, we need to talk to Victor Miller," Jimmy announced as he entered the clinic.

"He's unconscious," April replied, not even breaking her pace.

"I think we need to wake him up," Bill insisted.

"No!" April said, ending the conversation and entering an exam room, closing the door with a firm click behind her. Bill and Jimmy walked on down the hall to where Jake was standing with Eric and Hawkins.

"It doesn't matter," Jake was saying, "We have to go look for his family."

"Why'd he have Grey's truck?" Bill asked, jumping into the conversation.

"We need to know what he did with Grey," Jimmy insisted.

"I know, but we can't just torture a dying man," Jake said resolutely.

"No one is torturing anyone," Eric reassured his brother.

"We could give him a shot of adrenaline," Hawkins suggested. "It'll wake him up enough to question him."

"He's dying of 3rd degree burns," Jake argued, "It'd be like waking him up on fire."

"Our people are dying out there," Bill maintained. "Grey may already be dead."

"We need to protect ourselves Jake," Jimmy insisted.

"We need to protect ourselves from _this_," Jake said in disbelief.

"Jake, Grey's one of us," Bill put in. "We need to find out what this guy did to him."

"Hey, he is going to die anyway," Hawkins added. "But he could save some people's lives. . ." He let the words hang in the air as Jake considered. "Eric?" Hawkins asked for Eric's vote in the matter, and Eric nodded slowly. "I'd like to do this myself," Hawkins went on to say.

"Oh no, I'm not leaving him," Jake exclaimed, standing to follow Hawkins.

"Okay," Hawkins said nodding in agreement

"Okay," Jake agreed with his former classmate, wondering what the man had in mind and anxious for the conversation they would have about this later. They proceeded into Victor's room.

"What's going on in there?" April asked, coming down the hall and seeing Jake and Hawkins in the room.

"They're asking him a few questions," Eric replied, trying to calm her.

"Like hell they will! It's my patient!" April replied in anger. Eric put his arm out to stop her. "Let go of me." April countered, pulling away.

"We need information," Eric explained.

"You have no right," April countered.

"He could be a murderer," Eric argued.

"And that gives you the power to do anything that you want?" April asked incredulously.

"Yes," Eric said defiantly. "Yes."

Inside Victor's room, Hawkins pushed a syringe of epinephrine through Victor's IV line. Victor awakened in terror.

"Victor, it's going to be okay," Jake tried to reassure the terrified man. "We will make this quick, alright?"

"The truck you drove here. Did someone give it to you?" Hawkins asked.

"No, no. It was... it was on the side of the road just north of town. It had a flat tire," Victor said with a great deal of effort.

"OK," Hawkins replied.

"I was out of gas," Victor gasped. "I put my spare tire onto the truck."

"It's OK, OK. But was there anybody in it?" Hawkins asked.

"No," Victor replied. "I had . . . to help them."

"Where are they?" Jake asked. "Do you remember anything else about the lake?"

"It burns. . ." Victor said.

"Was it off a dirt road?" Jake persisted.

"It burns!" Victor said again.

"He needs morphine," Hawkins interjected.

"Was your daughter at Bass Lake?" Jake asked.

"Yes. . ." Victor replied.

"He needs morphine, Jake," Hawkins repeated.

"Please. . ." Victor gasped.

Jake left the room in search of morphine and Hawkins approached the bed.

"Hey! We said families only. Hmm? Why? Why did you go back to Denver?" Hawkins asked angrily.

"I . . .I . . . couldn't let them die," Victor confessed.

"Well that was a mistake, because now we are a man down." Hawkins concluded.

"Some...some..so...someone flipped. Traitor. There's a... traitor," Victor gasped.

"Do you know who it was?" Hawkins asked. Victor gasped, but did not answer. "Come on man. Tell me. Who was it?"

"I . . ." Victor just gasped.

"Tell me, do you know who it was?" Hawkins persisted.

"You know . . ." Victor gasped as the cardiac monitor alarmed tachycardia and then a fatal rhythm. A moment later, Jake returned with the morphine.

"He's gone. . ." Hawkins told Jake. They stood in silence for a moment until April came and pronounced him dead.

"We had to do it," Eric said, somewhat defensively. April just glared at him. It was sure to be a tense evening at their home.

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Jake gathered Eric, Bill, Jimmy and some of the on-duty Rangers and made the trip to Bass Lake. Unfortunately, it went from a search and rescue mission to a recovery mission when all of the members of the group were found dead. The rest of the afternoon was spent transporting the 20 individuals back to town and getting them buried the town cemetery. Jake returned to the ranch briefly to shower and change before returning to town for the memorial service. Heather opted to stay at home with the babies.

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"Earlier today, we buried 20 people," Johnston Green spoke from the pulpit of the Presbyterian church. "Refugees from Denver. People we didn't know, but were prepared to welcome into our town. Unfortunately they died of radiation poisoning before we could reach them. For those people from Denver, and for our own people, for Sheriff Dawes, and Deputy Riley. For Deputy Connor and Deputy Salem. For people out there somewhere we know nothing about. Who might be suffering and dying right now. I ask that we take a moment of silence.

After observing the moment of silence, Johnston continued: "If you've lost a loved one, would you please stand?"

A number of people stood, including Dale Turner, Bill and Jimmy, and the Jackson family.

"If someone you love is missing, would you join those standing?" Johnston requested.

Gail, Jake, the McCalls, Emily Sullivan and several others stood up

"We stand, because we know that every life matters. We have to fight for every life, even when it seems hopeless, even when we're afraid. Because the battle ahead isn't just for our survival, it's for our humanity." Johnston concluded the service and the community members began to file out.

"Jake." Emily called to him as he walked toward the parking lot.

"Hey," Jake responded a little puzzled as to why she had stopped him.

"Hey," she replied, kissing him on the cheek. "You're a good man for trying to help someone you didn't even know."

Jake didn't even know how to respond. Emile turned and walked away. Jake rode back to the ranch with the McCalls, shaking his head. One could never tell with Emily.

**Author's Post Script:** The scene at the bedside of Victor Miller was abysmal, from the perspective of (medical) technical direction. I couldn't allow it to stand. I smoothed out the rough edges as best I could while upholding the spirit of the scene. While it is still far from realistic, at last Gail is no longer doing mouth-to-mouth respirations on a patient who was intubated (and is intubated again in the following scene . . .). I feel much better now.


End file.
